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THE TALISMAN 




fHactmllan’s pocket American anti 3£njgligfj Classics. 


A Senes of English Texts, edited for use in Secondary Schools, 
with Critical Introductions, Notes, etc. 


l6mo. Cloth. 25c. each. 


Addison's Sir Roger de Coverley. 
Browning’s Shorter Poems. 

Browning, Mrs., Poems (Selected). 
Burke’s Speech on Conciliation. 
Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. 
Byron’s Shorter Poems. 

Carlyle’s Essay on Burns. 

Chaucer’s Prologue and Knight’s Tale. 
Coleridge’s The Ancient Mariner. 
Cooper’s The Deerslayer. 

Cooper’s The Last of the Mohicans. 
De Quincey’s Confessions of an 
English Opium-Eater. 

Dryden’s Palamon and Arcite. 

Early American Orations, 1760-1824. 
Edwards’ (Jonathan) Sermons. 

Eliot’s Silas Marner. 

Epoch-making Papers in U. S. History. 
Franklin’s Autobiography. 

Goldsmith’s The Vicar of Wakefield. 
Hawthorne’s Twice-told Tales (Selec¬ 
tions from). 

Irving’s Life of Goldsmith. 

Irving’s The Alhambra. 

Irving’s Sketch Book. 

Longfellow’s Evangeline. 

Lowell’s The Vision of Sir Launfal. 
Macaulay’s Essay on Addison. 
Macaulay’s Essay on Hastings. 
Macaulay’s Essay on Lord Clive. 
Macaulay’s Essay on Milton. 


Macaulay’s Lays of Ancient Rome. 
Macaulay’s Life of Samuel Johnson 
Milton’s Comus and Other Poems. 
Milton’s Paradise Lost, Bks. I and II 
Old English Ballads. 

Palgrave’s Golden Treasury. 
Plutarch’s Lives (Caesar, Brutus, anc 
Mark Antony). 

Foe’s Poems. 

Poe’s Prose Tales (Selections frorfi). 
Pope’s Homer’s Iliad. 

Ruskin’s Sesame and Lilies. 

Scott’s Ivanhoe. 

Scott’s Lady of the Lake. 

Scott’s Lay of the Last Minstrel. 
Scott’s Marmion. 

Shakespeare’s As You Like It. 
Shakespeare’s Hamlet. 
Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. 
Shakespeare’s Macbeth. 
Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice 
Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night... 
Shelley and Keats: Poems. 

Southern Poets: Selections. 

Spenser's Faerie Queene, Book I. 
Stevenson’s Treasure Island. 
Tennyson’s Idylls of the King. 
Tennyson’s The Princess. 
Tennyson’s Shorter Poems. 
Wooiman’s Journal. 

Wordsworth’s Shorter Poems. 


OTHERS TO FOLLOW. 













THE TALISMAN 


A ROMANCE 

BY 

SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. 


EDITED BY 

FREDERICK TREUDLEY, A.B. 

STATE NORMAL COLLEGE, OHIO UNIVERSITY 


Ndn gorft 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. 

1904 


All rights reserved 


LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

NOV 23 iyu« 

Copyright tntry 

'AfXN.x'S 

CUSS t\ XXc. Nos 

/ 0 * 2-3 H-o 

COPY B. 




COPYRIGHT, 1904, 

By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 


Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1904 . 



i 


1 


Norfaoob 3j3ress 

J. S. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. 
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 








CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Introduction .ix 

1 Extended Notes : 

s The Crusades.xi 

The Holy Land.xiii 

Some Principal Characters.xv 

Chivalry.xx 

Mohammed and his Religion.xxiii 


The Talisman : 

Chapter I ... 

Chapter II 

Chapter III 

Chapter IV 

Chapter V 

Chapter VI 

Chapter VII . 

Chapter VIII . 

Chapter IX 
Chapter X 
Chapter XI 

vii 


9 

22 

40 

56 

60 

73 

86 

91 

97 

98 




















Vlll 


CONTENTS 


Chapter XII 
Chapter XIII . 
Chapter XIV . 
Chapter XV 
Chapter XVI . 
Chapter XVII . 
Chapter XVIII 
Chapter XIX . 
Chapter XX 
Chapter XXI . 
Chapter XXII . 
Chapter XXIII 
Chapter XXIV 
Chapter XXV . 
Chapter XXVI 
Chapter XXVII 
Chapter XXVIII 


PAGE : 

. Ill 
. 117 
. 127 
. 136 

. 146 

. 152 

. 162 
. 180 
. 194 | 

. 209 

. 218 
. 232 
. 243 

. 257 I 
. 267 j 
. 282 
. 302 














INTRODUCTION 


A work of art has for its purpose the expression of some 
central thought, around which are grouped details in such a 
manner as to lend strength and clearness to the thought. 
Great artists are gifted with an exquisite sense of proportion. 
Not only do they set forth the main purpose of the composition 
by holding to it with great fidelity, but they give to each part, 
however insignificant, its appropriate place, where it may enjoy 
the light best adapted to bring out its own peculiar excellencies. 
The author of the Waverley Novels was a master of his craft. 
He has succeeded in presenting in these great tales faithful 
pictures of the periods dealt with, and his characters, true to 
their times and places, maintain their identity and move through 
his pages with the reality almost of life. 

The Talisman is a story of the Third Crusade. Its central 
figure is Richard Coeur de Lion, a favorite character with Scott, 
picturesque in every detail, and lending itself in a peculiar 
manner to his genius. The young reader should be led to see 
how the story revolves about Richard, revealing most clearly 
his strength and weaknesses, and, at the same time, reflecting 
by contrast a true light upon the character of his associates, 
and also revealing the conditions of the times, and the purpose, 
difficulties, and causes of the failure of the Crusade. His per¬ 
sonal strength and prowess, his fickleness of temper, his love 
of glory, the strange intermingling within him of magnanimity 
and pitilessness, his want of tact, his liability to substitute 
lesser ends for those which were greater, upon which he was 
prone to fritter away his strength, — all are set forth with 


X 


INTRODUCTION 


great skill. Then, too, the companion picture, that of Saladin, f 
drawn with even a finer hand, should be made an opportunity 
for the study of Scott’s art. In proportion as the young 
reader possesses discernment, he should be led to a more critical 
study of those elements of this story less obtrusive in their 
nature. He should be taught to observe contrasts, and with 
what art one character makes manifest another. 

While to convey knowledge is not the primary aim of pure 
literature, and while it may be said that, only in a general way, 
is this story founded on fact, yet it is no doubt equally true 
that scarcely anywhere else can one gain a truer sense of the 
real condition of the times herein set forth. It is the glory of 
the constructive imagination to find fitting garments for truth, 
to give to truth “a local habitation and a name,” to bring the 
ideal world within the range of the practical world. 

But the study of a great work of art yields another return. 
It is the revelation made of himself by the artist. The picture 
of Scott’s life and character, as found in the pages of his noble 
biography by his son-in-law, Lockhart, is everywhere reinforced 
by what one may read in his great works, not only between 
the lines, but everywhere, in every word, in every line, in every 
character. Never for a moment does he lend himself to coun¬ 
tenancing evil in any of its aspects. He brings to their legiti¬ 
mate end the doers of good and evil. Such characters as Sir 
Kenneth, Quentin Durward, and the Disinherited Knight are 
the proofs of his sound and wholesome instincts. And yet 
he values truth and seeks to make his pages its. record. 

It is not necessary to remark that this text has meant to bear 
in mind the child. The teacher should be thoroughly acquainted 
with the full work. It should be read with great care, that 
each word may have its bearing and each incident may find its 
true relation. And above all there should be bestowed upon 
it such a study of its art that it may become clear how words 
produce effects, how conversation reveals character, how inci- 


INTRODUCTION 


XI 


dents are fitted together, as the builder joins the parts of his 
structure, how character is fashioned only through conflict, and 
how true it is, in all ages, that mankind clearly lies under the 
moral government of God. 


THE CRUSADES 

As soon as the people of Western Europe became Christians 
they turned to Jerusalem, the city of Jesus, as the Holy of 
Holies. In all ages of the Christian era it was considered that 
a pilgrimage to Palestine made certain the attainment of heaven, 
and every palmer, as these pilgrims were called, was held al¬ 
most as a saint. At first the Christians held all Palestine, but 
after the Saracen Caliphs, whose capital was Bagdad, came into 
possession, pilgrims were treated with great consideration. A 
change, however, came over the land in the eleventh century, 
with the coming of the Turk as ruler. Mohammedans as they 
were, they would tolerate no other religion and inflicted upon 
the defenceless palmers the most cruel indignities. 

This, and their love of adventure, aroused the warriors of the 
West, and in 1096 the vanguard of the First Crusade set forth, 
under the leadership of Peter the Hermit, to whose remarkable 
eloquence as a preacher much of the enthusiasm was due, and 
who was one of the great characters of his age. Composed as 
this section was of men, women, and children, entirely unor¬ 
ganized and compelled to go on foot through hostile countries, 
destitute of food, the greater part of the host perished before 
it arrived at the Holy Land. The main body, under the lead¬ 
ership of two great knights, Godfrey of Bouillon and Raymond 
of Toulouse, was made up of well-equipped warriors more 
numerous than any army ever before gathered together, and, 
though many perished by the way, a sufficiently strong army 
remained to conquer Palestine and establish there what was 


xn 


INTRODUCTION 


called the Latin Kingdom, with its capital at Jerusalem, which 
existed almost until the end of the thirteenth century. 

The Second Crusade was caused by the threatened destruc¬ 
tion of this Kingdom, and was led by Conrad, Emperor of Ger¬ 
many, and Louis VII. of France. Through the perfidy of thp 
Greeks and the Turks almost the whole force was destroyed 
after leaving Constantinople, and the remnant made its escape 
back to Europe. 

It was about the middle of the twelfth century that Saladin, 
greatest of the Saracens and a worthy foe of the bravest knights 
of Europe, came into power as the head of the Mohammedans. 
He waged a long war with the Franks in Palestine, with vary¬ 
ing fortunes, until Jerusalem and all the chief cities of the land 
came into his power. This aroused Europe once more, and led 
to the Third Crusade. The first division was composed of 
Germans under their Emperor, Frederick Barbarossa. He 
humbled the Greeks at Constantinople, who had so often proved 
treacherous to the Crusaders, conquered the Turks who opposed' 
him, and had spread the terror of his name throughout the' 
East, before death by drowning unfortunately deprived this 
Crusade of his great services. After the death of Frederick, 
the Germans, opposed by the Turks and overcome by hunger 
and privation, melted almost entirely away. 

During this time Saladin was pursuing his conquests, turn¬ 
ing to his own advantage the weakness and dissensions of the 
Christian nobles. Conrad, Marquis of Montserrat, distinguished 
himself by his abilities in raising the siege of Tyre. The ener¬ 
gies of the Crusaders were devoted to the siege of Acre, while 
the army of Saladin in turn besieged the Christian forces. This 
lasted for almost three years, during which time “ more than 
one hundred skirmishes and nine great battles were fought,” and 
the loss to the Christians was almost too great to be counted, 
estimated by some at three hundred thousand, of which num¬ 
ber one hundred and twenty thousand were buried in one 



INTRODUCTION 


xm 


cemetery. This Crusade was headed by Philip of France and 
Richard of England. These two princes were continually 
quarrelling. Philip, to preserve peace, urged the marriage of 
Richard to his sister, but this was refused, and Richard married 
Berengaria. War almost broke out between the two, but peace 
was finally made, and the expedition moved on. It was only 
when the forces before Acre were reinforced by Philip and 
Richard, that the siege was raised. During this time;- the 
Franks and Saracens, when not fighting, would exchange cour¬ 
tesies. Tournaments were fought between them, and single 
combats. On the day of the surrender of Acre Richard ordered 
the standard of Leopold, Duke of Austria, which had been 
placed on one of the towers, to be thrown into the ditch, and by 
his wilfulness so angered the other leaders that Philip set forth 
for France, leaving Richard in sole command of the forces, with 
results as may be seen in the brief sketch of his life. 

The Crusaders after this accomplished nothing in the Holy 
Land. One notable event was the Children’s Crusade, under¬ 
taken in 1212, in which about seventy thousand children were 
gathered together, almost all of whom perished because of the 
hardships of the way. The results of the Crusades, so far as 
the objects they had in view, were small, but the indirect efforts 
were very far-reaching, and contributed greatly to the ultimate 
emancipation of Europe from the conditions which gave to these 
centuries the name they have always borne, — The Dark Ages. 


THE HOLY LAND 

The scene of the Crusades is a small country, scarcely three- 
fourths the size of the state of Massachusetts. It lies between 
the parallels of thirty-one and thirty-four degrees, which is 
practically the latitude of Alabama. Jerusalem and New 
Orleans are about the same distance north of the equator, but 


XIV 


INTRODUCTION 


the former city has an elevation of two thousand six hundred 
and ten feet. I 

In no other country of its size, however, are to be found such 
wide extremes, or summits from which can be seen so manyi 
places of world-wide interest. From the hill back of Nazareth] 
one can see thirty miles in three directions: to the west, the 
Mediterranean, to the east, the valley of Jordan, down upon the 
valley of Esdraelon, with its countless battlefields, and along 
which was the great route from the J ordan and the farther east 
to the Maritime Plain, over which passed the armies of the 
kings of the Nile and of the Tigris and the Euphrates. From 
the summit of Mount Ebal, a few miles to the south, the view 
is yet more extensive, for it reaches almost to Jerusalem, north¬ 
ward to Mount Hermon, to the desert beyond the J ordan, to the 
great sea, upon a land with “no farmsteads, no villas, or lonely 
castles ; for it still is unsafe for the solitary dweller.” Joppa lies 
only thirty-three miles away, Caesarea, thirty-five, Mount Carmel, 
thirty-five, the Lebanons, seventy-five, the Jordan, twenty-five. 

Within this range the traveller can find the oak, pine, walnut, 
maple, ash, poplar, and willow; and with these, on lower levels, 
the fig, olive, date-palm, pomegranate, banana, and orange. 
Apples, pears, and plums meet the eye, along with fields of 
wheat, barley, and the common vegetables. Out of two thousand 
to twenty-five hundred flowers, some five hundred are British, 
says Geikie. The traveller may find the tulip, crocus, hyacinth, 
anemone, geraniums, mallows, the daisy, dandelions, vervain! 
mint, nettles, and thistles, and ponds with water-cress, duck¬ 
weed, and rushes. 

The country may be divided into four great parts, the 
Maritime Plain, parallel to the sea, the great central ridge, 
ending southward from Jerusalem in the desert plain called the 
Negeb, and northward rising to Mount Hermon, the valley of 
the Jordan, and the desert lying to the east. It is about onf 
hundred and fifty miles in length, and in width from twenti 






INTRODUCTION 


XV 


miles on the north, to eighty on the south. The rainfall of 
Jerusalem is about the same as that of London and somewhat 
more than that of Paris and Vienna. 

The story opens in the section about the Dead Sea. This 
remarkable body of water, associated as it is with the destruc¬ 
tion of Sodom and Gomorrah, is forty-six miles long and from 
four to nine in breadth. Its surface is twelve hundred and 
ninety feet below the level of the sea, and soundings have been 
made to thirteen hundred feet. Inflowing streams pass through 
nitrous soil and are fed by sulphurous springs. While the 
water is blue in color, and so clear that pebbles may be seen 
twenty feet deep, it is so dense that “sticks rest upon its sur¬ 
face as upon a mirror, and the force of the waves beating upon 
a boat strikes it like the blows of a sledge-hammer.” 

It is difficult, without prolonged study and the use of pic¬ 
tures, to form a vivid idea of this land. Its topography explains 
much of its history. The natural defences offered by the moun¬ 
tains of the central plain made possible the prolonged inde¬ 
pendent existence of so small a people, and enabled them to 
create a history so significant, so interesting, and so varied. 
Its position, between the ancient civilizations of Egypt and of 
Assyria, Chaldea, and Babylon, enabled the Jewish people to 
share somewhat this life and yet be saved from much of the 
grossness of its immorality, and at the same time aided in the 
accomplishing of its great destiny, viz., the sowing of religious 
truth amongst nations far away. 


SOME PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS 
Richard 

Richard I. of England, known as the Lion-Heart, and born 
1157, was the great great grandson of William the Conqueror. 
In many respects he resembled the founder of his line. “ He 


XVI 


INTRODUCTION 


was lofty in stature, of a shapely build, with hair halfway j 
between red and yellow. His limbs were straight and flexible, S 
his arms somewhat long, and, for this reason, better fitted than 
those of most folk to draw or wield the sword. Moreover, hejj 
had long legs, matching the character of his whole frame. He] 
far surpassed other men in courtesy of manners and vastnesa 
of his strength. Memorable was he for his deeds and power,: 
while his splendid achievements would throw a shade over the I 
greatest praise we could give them.” His early years were 
typical of his later years, and so turbulent was he, as well as 
his brothers, among whom was John, his successor, chiefly re¬ 
nowned because it was he who signed, though against hb 
will, the Magna Charta, that when his father, Henry II., cam i 
to die and learned of the conspiracy of his sons against him, hd 
is said to have turned his face to the wall with these words, 
“Now let things go as they will — I care no more for myself or 
for the world.” 

In 1189 Richard was crowned at Westminster, with more: 
than usual magnificence, and immediately set about making 
preparations for the Crusade. The account of the means he 
took of raising money for this expedition is indicative of his i 
character and sets it out in dark colors. “ He sold the public 
offices. He sold earldoms. He sold the claim which his father 
Henry had asserted for the crown of Scotland.” “I would 
sell London, if I could find a buyer,” he exclaimed, and “his 
presence-chamber was an open market where all he could 
bestow, whether of the crown’s bounty or prerogative, was for 
sale.” But yet worse, after he returned from the Holy Land 
four years later, he forcibly resumed the lands which he had 
sold, and turned out the officers who had purchased their placesi 

It was not until the midsummer of 1190 that Richard started* 
for Palestine, and nearly a year was consumed on the way in 
contention and unnecessary contest with the Emperor of Cyprus! 
Meanwhile, he had married Berengaria, daughter of the King: 








INTRODUCTION 


xvii 


of Navarre, a province of Spain. When he arrived at last, he 
found the crusading forces engaged in besieging Acre, which 
for nearly a year had made a most stubborn defence. But 
the energy of Richard hastened its downfall, which occurred 
a little later. Meanwhile great dissension arose among the 
allied forces, as may be seen in the story. Philip of France 
sailed for home shortly after the fall of Acre. Richard re¬ 
mained a year from the following October. The story of 
these days is one of extraordinary activity and great personal 
i bravery. “Wherever he turned, brandishing his sword, he 
carved a wide path for himself.” Perhaps never was there ex¬ 
hibited the spirit of chivalry more conspicuously than during 
< ihis year, and the relations existing between him and Saladin, 
And Saladin’s brother, redound to the honor of all. 

But as time went on it became clear that Jerusalem could 
not be taken. Concluding a treaty by which pilgrirfis were to 
be guaranteed free access to the Holy City, he sailed for home 
October 9, 1192. The story of his return was in keeping 
with what had gone before. He found himself a prisoner of 
Leopold of Austria, who figures unfavorably in the pages of 
the Talisman, and who had meanwhile returned home. Later 
he was placed in the care of the Emperor of Germany, who 
held him for ransom. But the English people were true to 
their king, and with great difficulty raised the sum demanded, 
and Richard, after an imprisonment of one year, six weeks, 
and three days, set foot once more in England. 

But the people were impoverished, discontented, and dis¬ 
tracted. “The churches had been stripped of their sacred 
vessels, the traders had been taxed to the utmost extent of 
their small ability, the agriculturists had sold their scanty 
Mtocks to gather the large amount required for the ransom.” 
The king was restless. After a stay of two months in Eng¬ 
land he set off to quell disturbances in his French provinces, 
never to return. “ He perished,” says the historian, “ fighting 




INTRODUCTION 


xviii 




not for a dukedom, but for a paltry treasure which one of hisf 
barons had discovered on his estate.” His death was typical of i 
his life. Ordering into his presence the one who had wounded j. 
him, Richard said to him, “ What harm have I done to you that 
you have killed me ? ” On which the prisoner made answer, “You 
slew my father and my two brothers with your own hand, and 
you intended now to kill me; therefore take any revenge on 
me you may think fit, for I will readily endure the greatest 
torment you can devise, so long as you have met with your end, 
after having inflicted so many and so great evils upon the world.” I 
On this the king ordered him to be released, and said, “ I for¬ 
give you my death.” He shortly after passed away, after a 
reign of only ten years, leaving a name as conspicuous for its 
weaknesses as for its strength. 


Saladin 


Saladin, 1137-1194, was the son of one of the generals of \ 
the Sultan of Bagdad. In his youth he gave slight promise^ 
of the eminence he was later to attain, being fond of pleasures,)! 
and with no desires for glory. But circumstances soon trans-4 
formed him into a very different spirit, and in 1175 he becamer 
Sultan of Egypt, and a little later master of Syria. The larger' 
portion of his life was spent in contest with the Crusaders.* 
It is a story of camps and crowns, of defeats and victories, off 
sieges and counter sieges, of dissensions and cruelty, and yet out; 
of it all has emerged the character of Saladin as one of the 
most illustrious of his times. 

“ Ambition and religious zeal appear to have been his ruling^ 
passions; he was courageous, magnanimous, and merciful, pos¬ 
sessed of remarkable military talents and great control over 
himself. His generosity to the vanquished and his faithful ob¬ 
servance of his passed word are lauded by the historian of the 




1N TROD UCTION 


XIX 


rusades ; the former brought on him much obloquy among his 
vn fierce soldiers, and is a trait in his character which is 
orthy of note in the annals of a time when this virtue was 
:tremely rare.” Within six months after the signing of the 
uce for three years, the great Saracen died, saying to his son • 
bpill no blood, for it will one day reach thy head. Preserve 
e hearts of thy subjects by loving care, for they are entrusted 
thee by God.” 


Philip 

Philip Augustus of France, 1164-1223, was one of the 
eatest kings of her early history, but he was far from being a 
sat man. He became king in 1180, and throughout his 
gn fomented strife among his neighbors so as to increase his 
r n territory, which had shrunk to the smaller half of what 
now known as France. He undertook the Third Crusade as 
hversion, but soon wearied of it, and, actuated by motives of 
ang advantage of the unsettled state of England to promote 
i own fortunes, returned home. His reign was long, forty- 
'ee years, and in it he conquered Normandy, established the 
liversity of Paris, humbled the great nobles, and made roy- 
y supreme. He was cold and unenthusiastic, sometimes mean 
1 deceitful, a man to be feared and never to be loved. 


Conrade 

Conrade, Marquis of Montserrat, first distinguished himself 
the wars of the popes with the Emperor of Germany. Later 
went to Constantinople and thence to Palestine. When 
' e was besieged by Saladin and about to surrender, he was 
le commander, and such enthusiasm did he arouse that the 
> e was raised. After this he engaged in a contest for the 




XV111 


INTRODUCTION 


not for a dukedom, but for a paltry treasure which one of his 
barons had discovered on his estate.” His death was typical of j 
his life. Ordering into his presence the one who had wounded- 
him, Richard said to him, “ What harm have I done to you that* 
you have killed me ? ” On which the prisoner made answer, “You 
slew my father and my two brothers with your own hand, anc 
you intended now to kill me; therefore take any revenge oi 
me you may think fit, for I will readily endure the greates 
torment you can devise, so long as you have met with your endj 
after having inflicted so many and so great evils upon the world. I 
On this the king ordered him to be released, and said, “ I foil 
give you my death.” He shortly after passed away, after 
reign of only ten years, leaving a name as conspicuous for itl 
weaknesses as for its strength. 

Saladin 

Saladin, 1137-1194, was the son of one of the generals c 
the Sultan of Bagdad. In his youth he gave slight promifii 
of the eminence he was later to attain, being fond of pleasure! 
and with no desires for glory. But circumstances soon tran 
formed him into a very different spirit, and in 1175 he becanj 
Sultan of Egypt, and a little later master of Syria. The larg 
portion of his life was spent in contest with the Crusadei 
It is a story of camps and crowns, of defeats and victories, < 
sieges and counter sieges, of dissensions and cruelty, and yet o 
of it all has emerged the character of Saladin as one of t 
most illustrious of his times. 

“ Ambition and religious zeal appear to have been his ruli 
passions; he was courageous, magnanimous, and merciful, p< 
sessed of remarkable military talents and great control o\ 
himself. His generosity to the vanquished and his faithful < 
servance of his passed word are lauded by the historian of 1 





INTRODUCTION 


XIX 


Crusades ; the former brought on him much obloquy among his 
own fierce soldiers, and is a trait in his character which is 
worthy of note in the annals of a time when this virtue was 
extremely rare.” Within six months after the signing of the 
truce for three years, the great Saracen died, saying to his son: 
“ Spill no blood, for it will one day reach thy head. Preserve 
the hearts of thy subjects by loving care, for they are entrusted 
to thee by God.” 


Philip 


Philip Augustus of France, 1164-1223, was one of the 
greatest kings of her early history, but he was far from being a 
great man. He became king in 1180, and throughout his 
reign fomented strife among his neighbors so as to increase his 
own territory, which had shrunk to the smaller half of what 
is now known as France. He undertook the Third Crusade as 
a diversion, but soon wearied of it, and, actuated by motives of 
taking advantage of the unsettled state of England to promote 
his own fortunes, returned home. His reign was long, forty- 
three years, and in it he conquered Normandy, established the 
University of Paris, humbled the great nobles, and made roy¬ 
alty supreme. He was cold and unenthusiastic, sometimes mean 
and deceitful, a man to be feared and never to be loved. 



Conrade 


Conrade, Marquis of Montserrat, first distinguished himself 
in the wars of the popes with the Emperor of Germany. Later 
he went to Constantinople and thence to Palestine. When 
Tyre was besieged by Saladin and about to surrender, he was 
made commander, and such enthusiasm did he arouse that the 
siege was raised. After this he engaged in a contest for the 


XX 


INTRODUCTION 


title of King of Jerusalem, Philip siding with Conrade, and 
Richard with his antagonist. Shortly after a settlement was 
made of his claims, he died, some attributing his death to 
Richard, others to the Templars. 

William, Archbishop of Tyre 

William, Archbishop of Tyre, was born about 1137, and 
spent most of his life in Palestine in the church. He held rank 
among the greatest of mediaeval historians. He returned to 
Europe in 1188 and preached the Third Crusade so eloquently 
as to arouse the whole continent. 

CHIVALRY 

Chivalry took its rise in the disorder of the time following, 
the breaking up of the Empire of Charlemagne, reached its cul- • 
mination during the period of the wars between England and j 
France, whose historian is Froissart, and declined with the j 
extension of settled government. The eleventh to the fifteenth | 
century was the period of its sway. It was one of great law-. 
lessness, out of which arose the feudal system, one of the chief 
guarantees of security, as it was based upon the principle of 
projection of the weak in return for services rendered. 

The individual counted for everything, and hence the peculiar! 
charm and interest of the records of those days. The practices 
of chivalry became a means of order, the safety of the oppressed,, 
a road to fame, and material for literature and song. With] 
chivalry was associated a sense of personal honor, to cherish) 
which was one of the chief objects of him whose life was com¬ 
mitted to its service. By every means, and in every way, the 
young candidate for knighthood was placed where powerful 
incentives could be brought to operate upon his sense of per- 




INTRODUCTION 


xxi 


sonal pride. His first vow was “to speak the truth, to succor 
the helpless and oppressed, and never to turn his back upon an 
enemy.” He must be of “noble birth, liberal in gifts, high in 
courage, patient in difficulties, powerful against excesses, pru¬ 
dent in deed.” He was sworn “to undertake nothing without 
having held mass fastings; to spare neither his blood nor his 
life in defence of the Catholic faith ; to give aid to all widows 
and orphans; to undertake no war without just cause; to favor 
no injustice, but to protect the innocent and oppressed; to be 
humble in all things; to seek the welfare of those placed under 
him; never to violate the rights of his sovereign, and to live 
irreprehensibly before God and man.” 

In close connection with this spirit was the influence of 
woman. “ The love of God and the ladies was enjoined as a 
single duty. He who was faithful and true to his mistress was 
held sure of salvation in the theology of the castle, if not of the 
cloister.” The great historian of the Middle Ages, Hallam, 
has pointed out that the three great virtues of knighthood were 
loyalty, courtesy, and munificence. If to these be added valor, 
“ an active sense of justice, an ardent indignation against 
wrong, a determination of courage to its best end, the preven¬ 
tion and redress of injury,” the general requirements of knight¬ 
hood are clearly outlined. 

In reading the Talisman these traits of chivalry ought to be 
clearly brought out as they are here exemplified. The fidelity 
of De Vaux, the sincerity and truthfulness of Sir Kenneth, the 
generosity of Richard, the exquisite courtesy of Saladin, the 
valor, steadfastness, sense of justice, and personal honor of all, 
are not only examples of the spirit of chivalry, but also of the 
fascination which these virtues ever exercised over the mind of 
the great novelist. 

To heighten these virtues he very clearly sets forth their 
opposites, and brings them and their results into fitting con¬ 
demnation. Nowhere are set forth more clearly than in his 


XXII 


INTRODUCTION 


pages the forms and customs of chivalry, its trials at arms, its 
jousts and tournaments, its rude discriminations of justice, and 
all the trappings of “ pride of power ” which so fascinated him. 
Edmund Burke, whose imagination and mental grasp were on a 
scale with Scott’s, describes chivalry as “ the unbought grace of 
life, the chief defence of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment 
and heroic enterprise.” “ Never, nevermore shall we behold that 
generous loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission, that 
dignified obedience, that subordination of the heart which 
kept alive even in servitude itself the spirit of an exalted free¬ 
dom and that sensibility of principle, that chastity of honor, 
which felt a stain like a wound, which inspired courage whilst 
it mitigated ferocity, which ennobled whatever it touched, and 
under which vice lost half its evil by losing all the grossness.” 

These are glowing words, but it is wise to remember that the 
merits of chivalry, including feudalism, were relative and not 
absolute. The times were hard. Ignorance prevailed almost 
universally, save in the monasteries. The gallantry of knight¬ 
hood expended itself chiefly upon its own order of life, and 
scarcely touched with its direct influence the great mass of life 
lying far below. 

The period of history referred to in the Talisman can offer 
no comparison with our present century, so far as offering to 
the people the means of real living. These were the times 
when, for example, English law required the brushwood to be 
cut back two hundred feet from public highways in order that 
the travellers might not be so exposed to the sudden attacks 
of robbers. They were years when human life was very lightly 
held and property was largely at the disposal either of the 
crown or of a few great families. To Scott, nourished as was 
his youth upon border tales in which were brought out all 
phases of life and character, and possessed as he was with a 
wonderfully rich and imaginative nature, this period presented! 
singular fascination. But the impressions produced by his 


INTRODUCTION xxiii 

works need the correction of historical facts, and the truth, 
when arrived at, shows that during these ages the world groaned 
beneath her miseries, and the widest extremes of living pre¬ 
vailed, not only between individuals and classes of people, but 
within the souls of men. 


MOHAMMED AND HIS RELIGION 

Mohammed was born in Mecca in 569. He claimed that 
God and His angels had appeared to him in visions and 
revealed a new religion whose main feature is the famous words 
repeated every day by every true Mussulman, “ There is but 
one God, and Mohammed is his prophet.” 

His first convert was his wife, and by the end of three years 
he was able to win only about forty souls. The people of 
Mecca became displeased with him and compelled him to flee. 
This flight, called the Hegira, and the date to which Moham¬ 
medanism looks as the time of its birth, occurred in 622. 

He went to Medina, a city two hundred and eight miles 
north of Mecca. He effected the conversion of the city, and 
then proceeded to the conquest of the world, offering to unbe¬ 
lievers the Koran or the sword. Within ten years Mecca was 
conquered; embassies were sent to Constantinople, Persia, and 
other countries, calling upon the princes to espouse the religion 
he offered. He died in 632, but not until the Arabian tribes 
had entered upon a career of conquest unparalleled in the history 
of the world. They overcame Syria, including Palestine, and 
invaded Persia and Central Asia. Egypt fell under their rule, 
and then, with great rapidity, they swept along the northern 
coast of Africa, passed over into Spain in 711, soon became the 
masters of that country, and, invading Europe, met with their 
first great defeat at Tours, France, by the hand of Charles 
Martel. 


XXIV 


INTRODUCTION 


The history of the occupation of Spain embraces a period of 
great brilliance. With it is associated the Alhambra and an 
era of learning and light in remarkable contrast with conditions 
prevailing in Europe. Meanwhile, the conquest of Constanti¬ 
nople was attempted, but in vain; yet it was reserved to 
Mohammed’s converts, the Turks, to take this city and to hold 
it even down to the present day. 

Myers, in his general history, has summed up the teachings 
of Mohammed as follows: “ It teaches fatalism, and thus 
paralyzes the will of men, and discourages effort and enter¬ 
prise. It removes God to an inconceivable distance from 
humanity, denies all possibility of communion and sympathy 
between the human soul and the Infinite Spirit, and thus 
represses all spiritual aspiration and growth. It consecrates 
sensuality, and thus sinks its devotees into the lowest j 
degradation.” Hence, as he well says, it bars the avenue to | 
all progress and improvement and “ becomes a blight and a 
curse to every race embracing its sterile doctrines.” 





* 


the talisman 









■ 

































THE TALISMAN 


CHAPTER I 


They, too, retired 

To the wilderness, but ’twas with arms. 

Paradise Begained. 


The burning sun of Syria had not yet attained its highest 
point in the horizon, when a knight of the Red Cross, 1 who had 
left his distant northern home and joined the host of the Cru¬ 
saders in Palestine, was pacing slowly along the sandy deserts 
which lie in the vicinity of the Dead Sea, or, as it is called, the 
Lake Asphaltites, where the waves of the Jordan pour them¬ 
selves into an inland sea, from which there is no discharge of 
waters. 

The warlike pilgrim had toiled among cliffs and precipices 
during the earlier part of the morning; more lately, issuing 
from those rocky and dangerous defiles, he had entered upon 
that great plain, where the accursed cities provoked, in ancient 
days, the direct and dreadful vengeance of the Omnipotent. 

1 The Red Cross worn upon a white mantle was a sign of the Knights 
Templars, the White Cross upon a black mantle, that of the Hospitallers. 
These great organizations arose after the First Crusade, and had for 
their object “ the care and protection of sick crusaders, the entertain¬ 
ment of Christian pilgrims, the guarding of holy places, and ceaseless 
battling for the Cross.” 

They acquired great fame and wealth, had possessions in every land, 
rose to great influence, and after a long existence, finally passed away. 
b 1 


2 


THE TALISMAN 


The toil, the thirst, the dangers of the way were forgotten, 
as the traveller recalled the fearful catastrophe which had con¬ 
verted into an arid and dismal wilderness the fair and fertile 
valley of Siddim, once well watered, even as the garden of the 
Lord, now a parched and blighted waste, condemned to eternal 
sterility. 

Crossing himself as he viewed the dark mass of rolling waters, 
in color as in quality unlike those of every other lake, the 
traveller shuddered as he remembered that beneath these slug¬ 
gish waves lay the once proud cities of the plain, whose grave 
was dug by the thunder of the heavens, or the eruption of sub¬ 
terraneous fire, and whose remains were hid, even by that sea 
which holds no living fish in its bosom, bears no skiff on its 
surface, and, as if its own dreadful bed were the only fit recep¬ 
tacle for its sullen waters, sends not, like other lakes, a tribute 
to the ocean. The whole land around, as in the days of Moses, 
was “ brimstone and salt; it is not sown, nor beareth, nor any 
grass groweth thereon; ” 1 the land as well as the lake might 
be termed dead, as producing nothing having resemblance to 
vegetation; and even the very air was entirely devoid of its 
ordinary winged inhabitants, deterred probably by the odor of 
bitumen and sulphur, which the burning sun exhaled from the 
waters of the lake in steaming clouds, frequently assuming the 
appearance of waterspouts. Masses of the slimy and sulphure¬ 
ous substance called naphtha, which floated idly on the sluggish 
and sullen waves, supplied those rolling clouds with new 
vapors, and afforded awful testimony to the truth of the 
Mosaic history. 

Upon this scene of desolation the sun shone with almost in¬ 
tolerable splendor, and all living nature seemed to have hidden 
itself from the rays, excepting the solitary figure which moved 
through the flitting sand at a foot’s pace, and appeared the sole 
breathing thing on the wide surface of the plain. The dress of 
1 Deuteronomy xxix. 23, 



THE TALISMAN 


3 


the rider and the accoutrements of his horse were peculiarly 
unfit for the traveller in such a country. 1 A coat of linked 
mail, with long sleeves, plated gauntlets, and a steel breastplate, 
had not been esteemed a sufficient weight of armor : there was 
I ? lso triangular shield suspended round his neck, and his 
barred helmet of steel, over which he had a hood and collar 
of mail, which was drawn around the warrior’s shoulders and 
: throat, and filled up the vacancy between the hauberk and the 
( heac *-piece. His lower limbs were sheathed, like his body, in 
flexible mail, securing the legs and thighs, while the feet rested 
in plated shoes, which corresponded with the gauntlets. A long 
broad, straight-shaped, double-edged falchion, 2 with a handle 
wormed like a cross, corresponded with a stout poniard on the 
other side. The knight also bore, secured to his saddle, with 
one end resting on his stirrup, the long steel-headed lance, his 
own proper weapon, which, as he rode, projected backwards, 
and displayed its little pennoncelle, to dally with the faint 
. breeze, or drop in the dead calm. To this cumbrous equipment 
must be added a surcoat of embroidered cloth, much frayed and 
worn, which was thus far useful, that it excluded the burning 
rays of the sun from the armor, which they would otherwise 
have rendered intolerable to the wearer. The surcoat bore, in 
| several places, the arms of the owner, although much defaced. 
These seemed to be a couchant 3 leopard, with the motto, “ I 
|sleep wake me not.” An outline of the same device might 
•be traced on his shield, though many a blow had almost effaced 
the painting. The flat top of his cumbrous cylindrical helmet 
was unadorned with any crest. In retaining their own unwieldy 
defensive armor, the northern Crusaders seemed to set at 

• 1 ^ he armor here described is that of the twelfth century. With the 
introduction of the sharp-pointed sword of the thirteenth century, this 
gave way to plated armor, giving better protection to the body, and 
worn until the beginning of the seventeenth century. 

2 Falchion: a light sword slightly curved. 

8 Couchant: lying down with head erect. 


4 


THE TALISMAN 


defiance the nature of the climate and country to which they 
had come to war. 

The accoutrements of the horse were scarcely less massive 
and unwieldy than those of the rider. The animal had a heavy 
saddle plated with steel, uniting in front with a species of 
breastplate, and behind with defensive armor made to cover 
the loins. Then there was a steel axe, or hammer, called a 
mace-of-arms, and which hung to the saddle-bow; the reins 
were secured by chain-work, and the front-stall of the bridle 
was a steel plate, with apertures for the eyes and nostrils, hav¬ 
ing in the midst a short, sharp pike, projecting from the fore¬ 
head of the horse like the horn of the fabulous unicorn. 

But habit had made the endurance of this load of panoply 
a second nature both to the knight and his gallant charger. 
Numbers, indeed, of the Western warriors who hurried to Pal¬ 
estine died ere they became inured to the burning climate ; but 
there were others to whom that climate became innocent and j 
even friendly, and among this fortunate number was the soli- J 
tary horseman who now traversed the border of the Dead Sea. 

Nature, which cast his limbs in a mould of uncommon 
strength, fitted to wear his linked hauberk with as much ease 
as if the meshes had been formed of cobwebs, had endowed 
him with a constitution as strong as his limbs, and which bade j[ 
defiance to almost all changes of climate, as well as to fatigue . 
and privations of every kind. 1 His disposition seemed, in 
some degree, to partake of the qualities of his bodily frame ; |, :i 
and as the one possessed great strength and endurance united \ 
with the power of violent exertion, the other, under a calm;, 
and undisturbed semblance, had much of the fiery and enthu- . 

1 Great pains were taken to strengthen the body by all sorts of gym-j' 
nastic exercises. The young candidate for knighthood was compelled!; 
“ to spring upon horseback armed at all points, and without putting ah 
foot to the stirrup; to cast somersets in heavy armor for the purpose of), 
strengthening his arms; to leap upon the shoulders of a horseman from 1 
behind, without any other hold than one hand laid upon the shoulder.*’ 






THE TALISMAN 


O 


siastic love of glory which constituted the principal attribute 
of the renowned Norman 1 line, and had rendered them sover¬ 
eigns m every corner of Europe where they had drawn their 
adventurous swords. 

It was not, however, to all the race that fortune proposed 
such tempting rewards; and those obtained by the solitary 
knight during two years’ campaign in Palestine had been only 
tempoial fame, and, as he was taught to believe, spiritual 
privileges. Meantime, his slender stock of money had melted 
away, the rather that he did not pursue any of the ordinary 
modes by which the followers of the Crusade condescended to 
recruit their diminished resources at the expense of the people 
of Palestine : he exacted no gifts from the wretched natives 
for sparing their possessions when engaged in warfare with 
the Saracens, and he had not availed himself of any oppor¬ 
tunity of enriching himself by the ransom of prisoners of con¬ 
sequence. The small train which had followed him from his 
native country had been gradually diminished, as the means 
of maintaining them disappeared, and his only remaining 
squire was at present on a sick-bed, and unable to attend his 
master, who travelled, as we have seen, singly and alone. 
This was of little consequence to the Crusader, who was ac¬ 
customed to consider his good sword as his safest escort, and 
devout thoughts as his best companion. 

Nature had, however, her demands for refreshment and re¬ 
pose, even on the iron frame and patient disposition of the 
Knight of the Sleeping Leopard ; and at noon, when the Dead 
.ea lay at some distance on his right, he joyfully hailed the 
sight of two or three palm-trees, which arose beside the well 
which was assigned for his mid-day station. His good horse, 


The Normans came originally from Scandinavia, settled in the 
province of Normandy in the northern part of France, and received 
tne culture and religion of the French. Their great leader, William the 
Conqueror, crossed the English Channel in 1066, and defeating the 
oaxons at Hastings, became master of England. 


6 


THE TALISMAN 


too, which had plodded forward with the steady endurance of 
his master, now lifted his head, expanded his nostrils, and 
quickened his pace, as if he snuffed afar off the living waters, 
which marked the place of repose and refreshment. But labor 
and danger were doomed to intervene ere the horse or horse¬ 
man reached the desired spot. 

As the Knight of the Couchant Leopard continued to fix his 
eyes attentively on the yet distant cluster of palm-trees, it 
seemed to him as if some object was moving among them. 
The distant form separated itself from the trees, which partly 
hid its motions, and advanced towards the knight with a speed 
which soon showed a mounted horseman, whom his turban-, 
long spear, and green caftan floating in the wind, on his nearer 
approach, showed to be a Saracen cavalier. “ In the desert,” 
saith an Eastern proverb, “ no man meets a friend.” 1 The 
Crusader was totally indifferent whether the infidel, who now 
approached on his gallant barb, as if borne on the wings of an 
eagle, came as friend or foe ; perhaps, as a vowed champion of 
the Cross, he might rather have preferred the latter. He 
disengaged his lance from his saddle, seized it with the 
right hand, placed it in rest with its point half elevated, 
gathered up the reins in the left, waked his horse’s mettle 
with the spur, and prepared to encounter the stranger with? the 
calm self-confidence belonging to the victor in many contests. ; 

The Saracen came on at the speedy gallop of an Arab horse¬ 
man, managing his steed more by his limbs and the inflection 
of his body than by any use of the reins, which hung loose in 
his left hand; so that he was enabled to wield the light round 
buckler of the skin of the rhinoceros, ornamented with silver 
loops, which he wore on his arm, swinging it as if he meant 
to oppose its slender circle to the formidable thrust of the 

1 The effects of solitude upon character are very marked. It tends 
to breed a sense of independence and indifference to others, personal 
pride, distrust, and fear. The derivation of the words urbane and 
polite show the condition by which true culture is acquired. 



THE TALISMAN 


7 


Western lance. His own long spear was not couched or lev¬ 
elled like that of his antagonist, but grasped by the middle 
with his right hand, and brandished at arm’s length above 
his head. As the cavalier approached his enemy at full career, 
he seemed to expect that the Knight of the Leopard should put 
his horse to the gallop to encounter him. But the Christian 
knight, well acquainted with the customs of Eastern warriors, 
did not mean to exhaust his good horse by any unnecessary 
exertion • and, on the contrary, made a dead halt, confident 
that, if the enemy advanced to the actual shock, his own 
weight, and that of his powerful charger, would give him suffi¬ 
cient advantage, without the additional momentum of rapid 
motion. Equally sensible and apprehensive of such a probable 
result, the Saracen cavalier, when he had approached towards 
the Christian within twice the length of his lance, wheeled his 
steed to the left with inimitable dexterity, and rode twice 
around his antagonist, who, turning without quitting his ground, 
and presenting his front constantly to his enemy, frustrated his 
attempts to attack him on an unguarded point; so that the 
Saracen, wheeling his horse, was fain to retreat to the distance 
of an hundred yards. A second time, like a hawk attacking a 
heron, the Heathen renewed the charge, and a second time was 
fa' to retreat without coming to a close struggle. A third 
time he approached in the same manner, when the Christian 
knight, desirous to terminate this illusory warfare, in which he 
might at length have been worn out by the activity of his foe- 
man, suddenly seized the mace which hung at his saddle-bow, 
and, with a strong hand and unerring aim, hurled it against the 
head of the Emir, 1 for such and not less his enemy appeared. 
The Saracen was just aware of the formidable missile in time 
to interpose his light buckler 2 betwixt the mace and his head; 
but the violence of the blow forced the buckler down on his 

1 Emir: an Arab chief. 

2 Buckler: a small shield to stop or parry blows. 


8 


THE TALISMAN 


turban, and though that defence also contributed to deaden its 
violence, the Saracen was beaten from his horse. Ere the Chris¬ 
tian could avail himself of this mishap, his nimble foeman 
sprung from the ground, and, calling on his steed, which in¬ 
stantly returned to his side, he leaped into his seat without 
touching the stirrup, and regained all the advantage of which 
the Knight of the Leopard hoped to deprive him. But the 
latter had in the meanwhile recovered his mace, and the East¬ 
ern cavalier, who remembered the strength and dexterity with 
which his antagonist had aimed it, seemed to keep cautiously 
out of reach of that weapon, of which he had so lately felt the 
force, while he showed his purpose of waging a distant warfare 
with missile weapons of his own. Planting his long spear in 
the sand at a distance from the scene of combat, he strung, 
with great address, a short bow, which he carried at his back, 
and putting his horse to the gallop, once more described two or 
three circles of a wider extent than formerly, in the course of 
which he discharged six arrows at the Christian with such un¬ 
erring skill that the goodness of his harness alone saved him 
from being wounded in as many places. The seventh shaft 
apparently found a less perfect part of the armor, and the Chris¬ 
tian dropped heavily from his horse. But what was the sur¬ 
prise of the Saracen, when, dismounting to examine the condition 
of his prostrate enemy, he found himself suddenly within the 
grasp of the European, who had had recourse to this artifice to 
bring his enemy within his reach ! Even in this deadly grapple 
the Saracen was saved by his agility and presence of mind. He 
unloosed the sword-belt, in which the Knight of the Leopard 
had fixed his hold, and, thus eluding his fatal grasp, mounted 
his horse, which seemed to watch his motions with the intelli¬ 
gence of a human being, and again rode off. But in the last 
encounter the Saracen had lost his sword and his quiver of 
arrows, both of which were attached to the girdle, which he was 
obliged to abandon. He had also lost his turban in the struggle. 


THE TALISMAN 


9 


These disadvantages seemed to incline the Moslem to a truce: 
he approached the Christian with his right hand extended, but 
no longer in a menacing attitude. 

There is truce betwixt our nations,” he said, in the lingua 
franca commonly used for the purpose of communication with 
the Crusaders; “ wherefore should there be war betwixt thee 
and me 1 Let there be peace betwixt us.” 

“I am well contented,” answered he of the Couchant Leop¬ 
ard j “ but what security dost thou offer that thou wilt observe 
the truce ? ” 

“ The word of a follower of the Prophet 1 was never broken,” 
answered the Emir. “It is thou, brave Nazarene, 2 from whom 
I should demand security, did I not know that treason seldom 
dwells with courage.” 

The Crusader felt that the confidence of the Moslem made 
him ashamed of his own doubts. 

“By the cross of my sword,” he said, laying his hand on the 
weapon as he spoke, “ I will be true companion to thee, Saracen, 
while our fortune wills that we remain in company together.” 

“ By Mahommed, Prophet of God, and by Allah, God of the 
Prophet,” replied his late foeman, “there is not treachery in my 
heart towards thee. And now wend we to yonder fountain, for 
the hour of rest is at hand, and the stream had hardly touched 
my lip when I was called to battle by thy approach.” 

The Knight of the Couchant Leopard yielded a ready and 
courteous assent; and the late foes, without an angry look or 
gesture of doubt, rode side by side to the little cluster of palm- 
trees. 


CHAPTER II 

Times of danger have always, and in a peculiar degree, their 
seasons of good-will and of security; and this was particularly 

1 Prophet: Mohammed. 2 Nazarene: a follower of Jesus Christ. 


10 


THE TALISMAN 


so in the ancient feudal ages, in which, as the manners of the 
period had assigned war to be the chief and most worthy occu¬ 
pation of mankind, the intervals of peace, or rather of truce, 
were highly relished by those warriors to whom they were sel¬ 
dom granted, and endeared by the very circumstances which 
rendered them transitory. It is not worth while preserving any 
permanent enmity against a foe whom a champion has fought 
with to-day, and may again stand in bloody opposition to on 
the next morning. The time and situation afforded so much 
room for the ebullition of violent passions, that men, unless 
when peculiarly opposed to each other, or provoked by the 
recollection of private and individual wrongs, cheerfully enjoyed 
in each other’s society the brief intervals of pacific intercourse 
which a warlike life admitted. 

The distinction of religions, nay, the fanatical zeal which ani¬ 
mated the followers of the Cross 1 and v of the Crescent 2 3 against 
each other, was much softened by a feeling so natural to gen¬ 
erous combatants, and especially cherished by the spirit of 
chivalry. This last strong impulse had extended itself gradu¬ 
ally from the Christians to their mortal enemies the Saracens, 
both of Spain and of Palestine. The latter were indeed no 
longer the fanatical savages who had burst from the centre of 
Arabian deserts, with the sabre in one hand and the Koran 8 in 
the other, to inflict death or the faith of Mahommed, or, at 
the best, slavery and tribute, upon all who dared to oppose the 
belief of the prophet of Mecca. These alternatives indeed had 
been offered to the unwarlike Creeks and Syrians; but in con¬ 
tending with the western Christians, animated by a zeal as fiery 
as their own, and possessed of as unconquerable courage, address, 
and success in arms, the Saracens gradually caught a part of 
their manners, and especially of those chivalrous observances 

1 The Cross: emblem of Christianity. 

2 The Crescent: emblem of Mohammedanism. 

3 Koran: the Scriptures of Mohammedans. 


THE TALISMAN 


11 


which were so well calculated to charm the minds of a proud 
and conquering people. They had their tournaments and games 
of chivalry, 1 they had even their knights, or some rank analo¬ 
gous ; and, above all, the Saracens observed their plighted faith 
with an accuracy which might sometimes put to shame those 
who owned a better religion. Their truces, whether national or 
betwixt individuals, were faithfully observed; and thus it was 
that war, in itself perhaps the greatest of evils, yet gave occa¬ 
sion for display of good faith, generosity, clemency, and even 
kindly affections, which less frequently occur in more tranquil 
periods, where the passions of men, experiencing wrongs or enter¬ 
taining quarrels which cannot be brought to instant decision, are 
apt to smoulder for a length of time in the bosoms of those who 
are so unhappy as to be their prey. 

It was under the influence of these milder feelings, which 
soften the horrors of warfare, that the Christian and Saracen, 
who had so lately done their best for each other’s mutual de¬ 
struction, rode at a slow pace towards the fountain of palm- 
trees, to which the Knight of the Couchaut Leopard had been 
tending, when interrupted in mid-passage by his fleet and 
dangerous adversary. Each was wrapt for some time in his 
own reflections, and took breath after an encounter which had 
threatened to be fatal to one or both; and their good horses 
seemed no less to enjoy the interval of repose. That of the 
Saracen, however, though he had been forced into much the 
more violent and extended sphere of motion, appeared to have 
suffered less from fatigue than the charger of the European 
knight. The sweat hung still clammy on the limbs of the 
last, when those of the noble Arab were completely dried by 
the interval of tranquil exercise, all saving the foam-flakes 
which were still visible on his bridle and housings. The loose 
soil on which he trode so much augmented the distress of the 
Christian’s horse, heavily loaded by his own armor and the 
1 For a fine description see Ivanhoe. 


12 


THE TALISMAN 


weight of his rider, that the latter jumped from his saddle, 
and led his charger along the deep dust of the loamy soil, 
which was burnt in the sun into a substance more impalpable 
than the finest sand, and thus gave the faithful horse refresh¬ 
ment at the expense of his own additional toil; for, iron- 
sheathed as he was, he sunk over the mailed shoes at every 
step which he placed on a surface so light and unresisting. 

“ You are right,” said the Saracen, and it was the first word 
that either had spoken since their truce was concluded — “ your 
strong horse deserves your care; but what do you in the desert 
with an animal which sinks over the fetlock at every step, as 
if he would plant each foot deep as the root of a date-tree ? ” 

“ Th °u speakest rightly, Saracen,” said the Christian knight, 
not delighted at the tone with which the infidel criticised his 
favorite steed — “rightly, according to thy knowledge and 
observation. But my good horse hath ere now borne me, in 
mine own land, over as wide a lake as thou seest yonder spread 
out behind us, yet not wet one hair above his hoof.” 

The Saracen looked at him with as much surprise as his 
manners permitted him to testify, which was only expressed 
by a slight approach to a disdainful smile, that hardly curled 
perceptibly the broad thick mustachio which enveloped his 
upper lip. 

“ It is justly spoken,” he said, instantly composing himself 
to his usual serene gravity: “list to a Frank, 1 and hear a 
fable.” 

“ Tllou art nofc courteous, misbeliever,” replied the Crusader, 
“ to doubt the word of a dubbed knight; and were it not that 
thou speakest in ignorance, and not in malice, our truce had 
its ending ere it is well begun. Thinkest thou I tell thee an 
untruth when I say that I, one of five hundred horsemen, 


1 Frank: the name of a German tribe which founded the French 
it nowhas ^ character of the P eo P le gave to the word the meaning 


THE TALISMAN 


13 


armed in complete mail, have ridden — ay, and ridden for miles, 
upon water as solid as the crystal and ten times less brittle ? ” 

“ What wouldst thou tell me ? ” answered the Moslem. 
“ Yonder inland sea thou dost point at is peculiar in this, 
that, by the especial curse of God, it suffereth nothing to sink 
in its waves, but wafts them away, and casts them on its mar¬ 
gin ; but neither the Dead Sea nor any of the seven oceans 
which environ the earth will endure on their surface the press¬ 
ure of a horse’s foot, more than the Red Sea endured to sustain 
the advance of Pharaoh and his host.” 1 

“You speak truth after your knowledge, Saracen,” said the 
Christian knight ; “ and yet, trust me, I fable not, according 
to mine. Heat in this climate converts the soil into some¬ 
thing almost as unstable as water; and in my land cold often 
converts the water itself into a substance as hard as rock. Let 
us speak of this no longer; for the thoughts of the calm, clear, 
blue refulgence of a winter’s lake, glimmering to stars and 
moonbeam, aggravate the horrors of this fiery desert, where, 
methinks, the very air which we breathe is like the vapor of 
,a fiery furnace seven times heated.” 

They had now arrived at the knot of palm-trees, and the foun¬ 
tain which welled out from beneath their shade in sparkling 
profusion. 

We have spoken of a moment of truce in the midst of war; 
and this, a spot of beauty in the midst of a sterile desert, was 
scarce less dear to the imagination. It was a scene which, 
perhaps, would elsewhere have deserved little notice; but as 
the single speck, in a boundless horizon, which promised the 
refreshment of shade and living water, these blessings, held 
cheap where they are common, rendered the fountain and its 
neighborhood a little paradise. Some generous or charitable 
hand, ere yet the evil days of Palestine began, had walled in 
and arched over the fountain, to preserve it from being ab- 
l Exodus xiv. 23-28. ^ 


14 


THE TALISMAN 


sorbed in the earth, or choked by the flitting clouds of dust 
with which the least breath of wind covered the desert. The 
arch was now broken and partly ruinous; but it still so far 
projected o^er and covered in the fountain, that it excluded 
the su» in a great measure from its waters, which, hardly 
touched by a straggling beam, while all around was blazing, 
lay in a steady repose, alike delightful to the eye and the 
imagination. Stealing from under the arch, they were first 
received in a marble basin, much defaced indeed, but still 
cheering the eye, by showing that the place was anciently 
considered as a station, that the hand of man had been there, 
and that man’s accommodation had been in some measure at¬ 
tended to. The thirsty and weary traveller was reminded by 
these signs that others had suffered similar difficulties, reposed 
in the same spot, and, doubtless, found their way in safety to 
a more fertile country. Again, the scarce visible current which 
escaped from the basin served to nourish the few trees which 
surrounded the fountain, and where it sunk into the ground 
and disappeared its refreshing presence was acknowledged by a 
carpet of velvet verdure. 

In this delightful spot the two warriors halted, and each, 
after his own fashion, proceeded to relieve his horse from sad¬ 
dle, bit, and rein, and permitted the animals to drink at the 
basin, ere they refreshed themselves from the fountain-head, 
which arose under the vault. They then suffered the steeds 
to go loose, confident that their interest, as well as their do¬ 
mesticated habits, would prevent their straying from the pure 
water and fresh grass. 

The champions formed a striking contrast to each other in 
person and features, and might have formed no inaccurate 
representatives of their different nations. The Frank seemed 
a powerful man, built after the ancient Gothic cast of form, 
with light brown hair, which, on the removal of his helmet! 
W ML s ^en to curl thick and profusely over his head. His fea- 


THE TALISMAN 


15 


tures had acquired, from the hot climate, a hue much darker 
than those parts of his neck which were less frequently ex¬ 
posed to view, or than was warranted by his full and well- 
opened blue eye, the color of his hair, and of the mustachios 
which thickly shaded his upper lip, while his chin was care¬ 
fully divested of beard, after the Norman fashion. His nose 
was Grecian and well formed; his mouth rather large in pro¬ 
portion, but filled with well-set, strong, and beautifully white 
teeth; his head small, and set upon the neck with much grace. 
His age could not exceed thirty, but, if the effects of toil and 
climate were allowed for, might be three or four years under 
that period. His form was tall, powerful, and athletic, like 
that of a man whose strength might, in later life, become un¬ 
wieldy, but which was hitherto united with lightness and 
activity. His hands, when he withdrew the mailed gloves, 
were long, fair, and well proportioned; the wrist-bones pecul¬ 
iarly large and strong, and the arms remarkably well shaped 
and brawny. A military hardihood, and careless frankness of 
expression, characterized his language and his motions; and his 
voice had the tone of one more accustomed to command than to 
obey, and who was in the habit of expressing his sentiments 
aloud and boldly, whenever he was called upon to announce 
them. 



The Saracen Emir formed a marked and striking contrast 
with the Western Crusader. His stature was indeed above 
the middle size, but he was at least three inches shorter than 
the European, whose size approached the gigantic. His slen¬ 
der limbs, and long spare hands and arms, though well propor¬ 
tioned to his person, and suited to the style of his countenance, 
did not at first aspect promise the display of vigor and elasticity 
which the Emir had lately exhibited. But, on looking more 
closely, his limbs, where exposed to view, seemed divested of 
all that was fleshy or cumbersome; so that nothing being left 
but bone, brawn, and sinew, it was a frame fitted for exertion 



16 


THE TALISMAN 


and fatigue, far beyond that of a bulky champion, whose strength 
and size are counterbalanced by weight, and who is exhausted 
by his own exertions. His features were small, well formed, > 
and delicate, though deeply embrowned by the Eastern sun, 
and terminated by a flowing and curled black beard, which 
seemed trimmed with peculiar care. The nose was straight | 
and regular, the eyes keen, deep-set, black, and glowing, and 
his teeth equalled in beauty the ivory of his deserts. The per¬ 
son and proportions of the Saracen, in short, stretched on the 
turf near to his powerful antagonist, might have been compared 
to his sheeny and crescent-formed sabre, with its narrow and 
light, but bright and keen, Damascus blade, contrasted with 
the long and ponderous Gothic war-sword which was flung un¬ 
buckled on the same sod . 1 The Emir was in the very flower 
of his age, and might perhaps have been termed eminently: 
beautiful, but for the narrowness of his forehead, and some¬ 
thing of too much thinness and sharpness of feature, or at 
least what might have seemed such in a European estimate > 
of beauty. 

Both were courteous; but the courtesy of the Christian seemed 
to flow rather from a good-humored sense of what was due to! 
others ; that of the Moslem from a high feeling of what was to l 
be expected from himself. 

The provision which each had made for his refreshment was! 
simple, but the meal of the Saracen was abstemious.' A hand¬ 
ful of dates, and a morsel of coarse barley-bread, sufficed to 
relieve the hunger of the latter, whose education had habituated] 
him to the fare of the desert, although, since their Syrian con- 

1 The making of swords is even now chiefly done by hand. Damas-! 
cus swords have an unrivalled reputation. The shape, weight, and* 
temper of swords are determined by the skill of the maker. "The test! 
of a finished blade is to strike it upon a solid block flatwise and on the 
hack, bending it both ways by hand, and driving its point through a 
steel plate an eighth-inch thick. About forty per cent fail in the tests. 
See the sword of Saladin, Chap. XXVII. 


THE TALISMAN 


17 


quests, the Arabian simplicity of life frequently gave place to 
the most unbounded profusion of luxury. A few draughts from 
the lovely fountain by which they reposed completed his meal. 
That of the Christian, though coarse, was more genial. Dried 
hog’s-flesh, the abomination of the Moslemah, was the chief 
part of his repast; and his drink, derived from a leathern 
bottle, contained something better than pure element. He fed 
with more display of appetite, and drank with more appearance 
of satisfaction, than the Saracen judged it becoming to show 
in the performance of a mere bodily function; and, doubtless, 
the secret contempt which each entertained for the other, as the 
follower of a false religion, was considerably increased by the 
marked difference of their diet and manners. But each had 
found the weight of his opponent’s arm, and the mutual respect 
which the bold struggle had created was sufficient to subdue 
other and inferior considerations. Yet the Saracen could not 
help remarking the circumstances which displeased him in the 
Christian’s conduct and manners; and, after he had witnessed 
for some time in silence the keen appetite which protracted the 
knight’s banquet long after his own was concluded, he thus 
addressed him: 

“Valiant Nazarene, is it fitting that one who can fight like 
a man should feed like a dog or a wolf ? Even a misbelieving 
Jew would shudder at the food which you seem to eat with as 
much relish as if it were fruit from the trees of Paradise, and 
as you feed like the brutes, so you degrade yourself to the bestial 
condition by drinking a poisonous liquor which even they refuse.” 

“Know, foolish Saracen,” replied the Christian, without hesi¬ 
tation, “ that thou blasphemest the gifts of God, even with the 
blasphemy of thy father Ishmael. The juice of the grape is 
given to him that will use it wisely, as that which cheers the 
heart of man after toil, refreshes him in sickness, and comforts 
him in sorrow. He who so enjoyeth it may thank God for his 
wine-cup as for his daily bread; and he who abuseth the gift 
c 


18 


THE TALISMAN 


of Heaven is not a greater fool in his intoxication than thou in 
thine abstinence.” 

The keen eye of the Saracen kindled at this sarcasm, and 
his hand sought the hilt of his poniard. It was but a mo¬ 
mentary thought, however, and died away in the recollection 
of the powerful champion with whom he had to deal, and the 
desperate grapple, the impression of which still throbbed in his 
limbs and veins; and he contented himself with pursuing the 
contest in colloquy, as more convenient for the time. 

“ Thy words,” he said, “ 0 Nazarene, might create anger, did 
not thy ignorance raise compassion. Seest thou not, 0 thou 
more blind than any who asks alms at the door of the mosque, 
that the liberty thou dost boast of is restrained even in that 
which is dearest to man’s happiness and to his household; and 
that thy law, if thou dost practise it, binds thee in marriage to 
one single mate, be she sick or healthy, be she fruitful or barren, 
bring she comfort and joy or clamor and strife, to thy table and 
to thy bed? This, Nazarene, I do indeed call slavery; whereas, 
to the faithful hath the Prophet assigned upon earth the patri¬ 
archal privileges of Abraham our father and of Solomon, the 
wisest of mankind, having given us here a succession of beauty 
at our pleasure, and beyond the grave the black-eyed houris 1 of 
Paradise.” 

“ Now, by His name that I most reverence in Heaven,” said 
the Christian, “ and by hers whom I most worship on earth, 
thou art but a blinded and a bewildered infidel. That diamond 
signet which thou wearest on thy finger, thou holdest it, doubt¬ 
less, as of inestimable value ? ” 

“Balsora and Bagdad 2 cannot show the like,” replied the, 
Saracen; “ but what avails it to our purpose ? ” 

“Much,” replied the Frank, “as thou shalt thyself confess. 

1 Houris: beautiful damsels who wait upon faithful Mohammedans 
in Paradise. 

2 Cities on the Tigris. See Tennyson’s Recollections of the Arabian 




THE TALISMAN 


19 


Take my war-axe and dash the stone into twenty shivers; would 
each fragment be as valuable as the original gem, or would they, 
all collected, bear the tenth part of its estimation 1 ” 

“ That is a child’s question,” answered the Saracen; “ the 
fragments of such a stone would not equal the entire jewel in 
the degree of hundreds to one.” 

“Saracen,” replied the Christian warrior, “the love which 
I a true knight binds on one only, fair and faithful, is the gem 
j entire ; the affection thou flingest among thy enslaved wives and 
half-wedded slaves is worthless, comparatively, as the sparkling 
shivers of the broken diamond.” 

“ Now, by the Holy Caaba,” 1 said the Emir, “ thou art a 
madman, who hugs his chain of iron as if it were of gold! 
Look more closely. This ring of mine would lose half its 
beauty were not the signet encircled and enchased with these 
lesser brilliants, which grace it and set it off. The central 
diamond is man, firm and entire, his value depending on him¬ 
self alone; and this circle of lesser jewels are women, borrow¬ 
ing his lustre, which he deals out to them as best suits his 
pleasure or his convenience. Take the central stone from the 
signet, and the diamond itself remains as valuable as ever, 
while the lesser gems are comparatively of little value. And 
this is the true reading of thy parable; for what sayeth the 
| poet Mansour 2 : ‘ It is the favor of man which giveth beauty 
land comeliness to woman, as the stream glitters no longer 
when the sun ceaseth to shine.’ ” 

“Saracen,” replied the Crusader, “thou speakest like one 
who never saw a woman worthy the affection of a soldier. 
Believe me, couldst thou look upon those of Europe, to whom, 
after Heaven, we of the order of knighthood vow fealty and 
devotion, thou wouldst loathe forever the poor sensual slaves 

1 The holiest temple of Mecca, containing a famous black stone said 
to have been brought from heaven. Toward this shrine all Mohamme¬ 
dans must pray, and to make a pilgrimage to it is the chief object of life. 

2 Mansour: a Persian poet, better known as Firdousi. 






20 


THE TALISMAN 


who form thy haram. The beauty of our fair ones gives point j 
to our spears and edge to our swords; their words are our law; 
and as soon will a lamp shed lustre when unkindled, as a 
knight distinguish himself by feats of arms, having no mis¬ 
tress of his affection.” 

“I have heard of this frenzy among the warriors of the 
West,” said the Emir, “and have ever accounted it one of 
the accompanying symptoms of that insanity which brings 
you hither to obtain possession of an empty sepulchre. But 
yet, methinks, so highly have the Franks whom I have met^ 
with extolled the beauty of their women, I could be well con¬ 
tented to behold with mine own eyes those charms which can 
transform such brave warriors into the tools of their pleasure. ”:j 

“ Brave Saracen,” said the knight, “ if I were not on a pil¬ 
grimage to the Holy Sepulchre, it should be my pride to con-tj 
duct you, on assurance of safety, to the camp of Richard of i 
England, than whom none knows better how to do honor to;} 
a noble foe; and though I be poor and unattended, yet have 
I interest to secure for thee, or any such as thou seemest, not' 
safety only, but respect and esteem. There shouldst thou see 
several of the fairest beauties of France and Britain form a 
small circle, the brilliancy of which exceeds ten-thousandfold 
the lustre of mines of diamonds such as thine.” 

“ Now, by the corner-stone of the Caaba ! ” said the Saracen, 
“ I will accept thy invitation as freely as it is given, if thou 
wilt postpone thy present intent; and, credit me, brave Naza- 
rene, it were better for thyself to turn back thy horse’s head , 
towards the camp of thy people, for to travel towards Jerusa¬ 
lem without a passport is but a wilful casting away of thy 
life.” 

“I have a pass,” answered the knight, producing a parch¬ 
ment, “ under Saladin’s hand and signet.” 

The Saracen bent his head to the dust as he recognized the 
seal and handwriting of the renowned soldan of Egypt and. 


THE TALISMAN 


21 


Syria; and having kissed the paper with profound respect, he 
pressed it to his forehead, then returned it to the Christian, 
saying, “ Rash Frank, thou hast sinned against thine own blood 
and mine, for not showing this to me when we met.” 

“You came with levelled spear,” said the knight; “had a 
troops of Saracens so assailed me, it might have stood with my 
honor to have shown the soldan’s pass, but never to one man.” 

“And yet one man,” said the Saracen, haughtily, “was 
enough to interrupt your journey.” 

' “True, brave Moslem,” replied the Christian; “but there 
are few such as thou art. Such falcons fly not in flocks, or, 
if they do, they pounce not in numbers upon one.” 

“Thou dost us but justice,” said the Saracen, evidently 
gratified by the compliment, as he had been touched by the 
implied scorn of the European’s previous boast; “ from us 
thou should have had no wrong; but well was it for me that I 
failed to slay thee, with the safeguard of the king of kings 
upon thy person. Certain it were, that the cord or the sabre 
had justly avenged such guilt.” 

“I am glad to hear that its influence shall be availing to 
me,” said the knight; “ for I have heard that the road is in¬ 
fested with robber tribes, who regard nothing in comparison of 
an opportunity of plunder.” 

“ The truth has been told to thee, brave Christian,” said 
the Saracen; “ but I swear to thee, by the turban of the 
Prophet, that shouldst thou miscarry in any haunt of such 
villains, I will myself undertake thy revenge with five thou¬ 
sand horse: I will slay every male of them, and send their 
women into such distant captivity that the name of their tribe 
shall never again be heard within five hundred miles of Da¬ 
mascus. I will sow with salt the foundations of their village, 
and there shall never live thing dwell there, even from that 
time forward.” 

“I had rather the trouble which you design for yourself 


22 


THE TALISMAN 


were in revenge of some other more important person than of 
me, noble Emir,” replied the knight; “but my vow is re¬ 
corded in Heaven, for good or for evil, and I must be indebted 
to you for pointing me out the way to my resting-place for this 
evening.” 

“ That,” said the Saracen, “ must be under the black cover¬ 
ing of my father’s tent.” 

“ This night,” answered the Christian, “ I must pass in 
prayer and penitence with a holy man, Theodorick of Engaddi , 1 : 
who dwells amongst these wilds, and spends his life in the ser¬ 
vice of God.” 

“ I will at least see you safe thither,” said the Saracen. 

“ That would be pleasant convoy for me,” said the Chris¬ 
tian, “ yet might endanger the future security of the good 
father; for the cruel hand of your people has been red with 
the blood of the servants of the Lord, and therefore do we 
come hither in plate and mail, with sword and lance, to open 
the road to the Holy Sepulchre, and protect the chosen saints 
and anchorites who yet dwell in this land of promise and of 
miracle.” 

“Nazarene,” said the Moslem, “in this the Greeks and 
Syrians have much belied us, seeing we do but after the w'ord 
of Abubeker Alwakel, the successor of the Prophet, and, after 
him, the first commander of true believers. ‘Go forth,’ he; 

said, ‘Yezed ben Sophian,’ when he sent that renowned gen- 

- 

1 In early ages there were two classes of hermits, hermits or 
anchorites, who dwelt alone, and coenobites, persons dwelling in com¬ 
munities. Among the reasons leading to this widespread practice 
were the great insecurity of the times and the old idea that the inner 
life could be made better only as the body was kept under. Then, too, 
the solitary life became the simplest means of doing penance for wrongs 
committed, and the religious teachings of those times laid much more 
emphasis upon the anger of God than upon His love. 

Engaddi: now Engedi, a stronghold on the western shore of the 
Dead Sea. David found here a retreat from Saul. See George Adam 
Smith’s, The Historical Geography of the Holy Land. 



the talisman 


23 


eraltot^c Syria from the infidels, ‘quit yourselves like men 
in battle, but slay neither the aged, the infirm, the women 
nor the children. Waste not the land, neither destroy corn 
and fruit-trees, they are the gifts of Allah. 1 Keep faith when 
you have made any covenant, even if it be to your own harm. 
If ye find holy men laboring with their hands, and serving 
God in the desert, hurt them not, neither destroy their dwell¬ 
ings. But when you find them with shaven crowns, they are 
of the synagogue of Satan —smite with the sabre, slay, cease 
not till they become believers or tributaries.’ As the Caliph, 
companion of the Prophet, hath told us, so have we done, and 
those whom our justice has smitten are but the priests of 
Satan. But unto the good men who, without stirring up na¬ 
tion against nation, worship sincerely in the faith of Issa ben 
Mariam, 2 we are a shadow and a shield; and such being he 
whom you seek, even though the light of the Prophet hath 
not reached him, from me he will only have love, favor, and 
regard.” 

# “ The anchorite whom I would now visit,” said the warlike 
pilgrim, “is, I have heard, no priest; but were he of that 
anointed and sacred order, I would prove with my good lance, 

against paynim 3 and infidel-” 

“Let us not defy each other, brother,” interrupted the Sara¬ 
cen ; “we shall find, either of us, enough of Franks or of 
Moslemah on whom to exercise both sword and lance. This 
Theodorick is protected both by Turk and Arab; and, though 
one of strange conditions at intervals, yet, on the whole, he 
bears himself so well as the follower of his own prophet, that 

he merits the protection of him who was sent-” 

“ Now, by Our Lady, Saracen,” exclaimed the Christian, 

“ if thou darest name in the same breath the camel-driver of 
Mecca with-” 

1 Allah: the Mohammedan name for God. 

2 Issa ben Mariam: Jesus. 8 Paynim: a pagan, an infidel. 





24 


THE TALISMAN 


An electrical shock of passion thrilled through the form of 
the Eiuir; but it was only momentary, and the calmness of his 
reply had both dignity and reason in it, when he said, “ Slander 
not him whom thou knowest not, the rather that we venerate 
the founder of thy religion, while we condemn the doctrine 
which your priests have spun from it. I will myself guide 
thee to the cavern of the hermit, which, methinks, without 
my help, thou wouldst find it a hard matter to reach. And, 
on the way, let us leave to mollahs and to monks to dispute 
about the divinity of our faith, and speak on themes which 
belong to youthful warriors — upon battles, upon beautiful 
women, upon sharp swords, and upon bright armor.” 


CHAPTER III 

The warriors arose from their place of brief rest and simple 
refreshment, and courteously aided each other while they care¬ 
fully replaced and adjusted the harness from which they had 
relieved for the time their trusty steeds. 

Ere they remounted to resume their journey, the Christian 
knight again moistened his lips and dipt his hands in the liv¬ 
ing fountain, and said to his pagan associate of the journey, 
“ I would I knew the name of this delicious fountain, that I 
might hold it in my grateful remembrance; for never did 
water slake more deliciously a more oppressive thirst than I 
have this day experienced.” 

“ It is called in the Arabic language,” answered the Saracen, 
“ by a name which signifies the Diamond of the Desert.” 

“ And well is it so named,” replied the Christian. “ My 
native valley hath a thousand springs, but not to one of them 
shall I attach hereafter such precious recollection as to this 
solitary fount, which bestows its liquid treasures where they 
are not only delightful, but nearly indispensable.” 


THE TALISMAN 


“ You say truth,” said the Saracen ; “for the curse is still 
on yonder sea of death, and neither man nor beast drink of 
its waves, nor of the river which feeds without filling it, until 
this inhospitable desert be passed.” 

They mounted, and pursued their journey across the sandy 
waste. The ardor of noon was now past, and a light breeze 
somewhat alleviated the terrors of the desert, though not 
without bearing on its wings an impalpable dust, which the 
Saracen little heeded, though his heavily-armed companion 
felt it as such an annoyance, that he hung his iron casque at 
f his saddle-bow, and substituted a light riding-cap. They rode 
together for some time in silence, the Saracen performing the 
part of director and guide of the journey, which he did by ob¬ 
serving minute marks and bearings of the distant rocks, to a 
ridge of which they were gradually approaching. For a little 
time he seemed absorbed in the task, as a pilot when navigating 
a vessel through a difficult channel; but they had not proceeded 
half a league when he seemed secure of his route, and disposed, 
with more frankness than was usual to his nation, to enter 
into conversation. 

“You have asked the name,” he said, “ of a mute fountain, 
which hath the semblance, but not the reality of a living thing. 
Let me be pardoned to ask the name of the companion with 
whom I have this day encountered, both in danger and in re¬ 
pose, and which I cannot fancy unknown, even here among 
the deserts of Palestine.? ” 

“ It is not yet worth publishing,” said the Christian. “ Know, 
however, that among the soldiers of the Cross I am called Ken¬ 
neth— Kenneth of the Couching Leopard; at home I have 
other titles, but they would sound harsh in an Eastern ear. 
Brave Saracen, let me ask which of the tribes of Arabia claims 
'your descent, and by what name you are known.” 

“Sir Kenneth,” said the Moslem, “I joy that your name is 
such as my lips can easily utter. For me, I am no Arab, yet 


26 


THE TALISMAN 


derive my descent from a line neither less wild nor less war¬ 
like. Know, Sir Knight of the Leopard, that I am Sheer- 
kohf, the Lion of the Mountain, and that Kurdistan, from which 
I derive my descent, holds no family more noble than that of 
Seljook.” 

“ I have heard,” answered the Christian, “ that your great 
soldan claims his blood from the same source ? ” 

“ Thanks to the Prophet, that hath so far honored our moun¬ 
tains as to send from their bosom him whose word is victory,” 
answered the Paynim. “Iam but as a worm before the King 
of Egypt and Syria, and yet in my own land something my 
name may avail. Stranger, with how many men didst thou 
come on this warfare 1 ” 

“ By my faith,” said Sir Kenneth, “ with aid of friends and 
kinsmen, I was hardly pinched to furnish forth ten well-ap¬ 
pointed lances, with maybe some fifty more men, archers and 
varlets included. Some have deserted my unlucky pennon, 
some have fallen in battle, several have died of disease, and 
one trusty armor-bearer, for whose life I am now doing my 
pilgrimage, lies on the bed of sickness.” 

“ Christian,” said Sheerkohf, “ here I have five arrows in 
my quiver, each feathered from the wing of an eagle. When 
I send one of them to my tents, a thousand warriors mount on 
horseback; when I send another, an equal force will arise: for 
the five, I can command five thousand men; and if I send my 
bow, ten thousand mounted riders will 'shake the desert. And 
with thy fifty followers thou hast come to invade a land in which 
I am one of the meanest ! ” 

“Now, by the rood, Saracen,” retorted the Western warrior, 
“ thou shouldst know, ere thou vauntest thyself, that one steel 
glove can crush a whole handful of hornets.” 

“ Ay, but it must first enclose them within its grasp,” said 
the Saracen, with a smile which might have endangered their 
new alliance, had he not changed the subject by adding : “ And 


THE TALISMAN 


27 


is bravery so much esteemed amongst the Christian princes, 
that thou, thus void of means and of men, canst offer, as thou 
didst of late, to be my protector and security in the camp of 
thy brethren ? ” 

“Know, Saracen,” said the Christian, “since such is thy 
style, that the name of a knight, and the blood of a gentleman, 
entitle him to place himself on the same rank with sovereigns 
even of the first degree, in so far as regards all but regal author¬ 
ity and dominion. Were Richard of England himself to wound 
the honor of a knight as poor as I am, he could not, by the law 
of chivalry, deny him the combat.” 

“ Methinks I should like to look upon so strange a scene,” 
said the Emir, “ in which a leathern belt and a pair of spurs 
put the poorest on a level with the most powerful. And 
mix you as boldly amongst the females of your chiefs and 
leaders 1 ” 

“ God forbid,” said the Knight of the Leopard, “ that the 
poorest knight in Christendom should not be free, in all hon¬ 
orable service, to devote his hand and sword, the fame of his 
actions, and the fixed devotion of his heart, to the fairest princess 
who ever wore coronet on her brow ! ” 

“But a little while since,” said the Saracen, “and you de¬ 
scribed love as the highest treasure of the heart — thine hath 
undoubtedly been high and nobly bestowed ? ” 

“ Stranger,” answered the Christian, blushing deeply as he 
spoke, “ we tell not rashly where it is we have bestowed our 
choicest treasures; it is enough for thee to know that, as thou 
sayest, my love is highly and nobly bestowed — most highly, 
most nobly; but if thou wouldst hear of love and broken 
lances, venture thyself, as thou sayest, to the camp of the 
Crusaders, and thou wilt find exercise for thine ears, and, if 
thou wilt, for thy hands too.” 

The Eastern warrior, raising himself in his stirrups and shak¬ 
ing aloft his lance, replied: “ Hardly, I fear, shall I find one 


28 


THE TALISMAN 


with a crossed shoulder who will exchange with me the cast of 
the jerrid.” 1 

“ I will not promise for that,” replied the Knight, “ though 
there be in the camp certain Spaniards, who have right good 
skill in your Eastern game of hurling the javelin.” 

“ Dogs and sons of dogs ! ” ejaculated the Saracen; “ what 
have these Spaniards to do to come hither to combat the true 
believers, who, in their own land, are their lords and taskmas¬ 
ters 1 With them I would mix in no warlike pastime.” 

“Let not the knights of Leon or Asturias 2 hear you speak 
thus of them,” said the Knight of the Leopard; “ but,” added 
he, smiling at the recollection of the morning’s combat, “ if, 
instead of a reed, you were inclined to stand the cast of a 
battle-axe, there are enough of Western warriors who would 
gratify your longing.” 

“ By the beard of my father, sir,” said the Saracen, with an 
approach to laughter, “ the game is too rough for mere sport; 
I will never shun them in battle, but my head (pressing his 
hand to his brow) will not, for a while, permit me to seek them 
in sport.” 

“ I would you saw the axe of King Richard,” answered the 
Western warrior, “to which that which hangs at my saddle¬ 
bow weighs but as a feather.” 

“We hear much of that island sovereign,” said the Saracen, 
“ art thou one of his subjects ? ” 

“ One of his followers I am, for this expedition,” answered 
the Knight, “ and honored in the service; but not born his 
subject, although a native of the island in which he reigns.” 

“How mean you h ” said the Eastern soldier; “ have you 
then two kings in one poor island ? ” 

“As thou sayest,” said the Scot, for such was Sir Kenneth 
by birth — “it is even so; and yet, although the inhabitants 

1 Jerrid: a wooden javelin five feet long used in mimic warfare. 

2 Provinces in Spain. 


THE TALISMAN 


29 


of the two extremities of that island are engaged in frequent 
war, the country can, as thou seest, furnish forth such a body 
of men-at-arms as may go far to shake the unholy hold which 
your master hath laid on the cities of Zion.” 

“By the beard of Saladin, Nazarene, but that it is a thought¬ 
less and boyish folly, I could laugh at the simplicity of your 
great sultan, who comes hither to make conquests of deserts 
and rocks, and dispute the possession of them with those who 
have tenfold numbers at command, while he leaves a part of 
his narrow islet, in which he was born a sovereign, to the do¬ 
minion of another sceptre than his. Surely, Sir Kenneth, you 
and the other good men of your country should have sub¬ 
mitted yourselves to the dominion of this King Richard, ere 
you left your native land, divided against itself, to set forth on 
this expedition 1 ” 

Hasty and fierce was Kenneth’s answer. “No, by the 
bright light of Heaven ! If the King of England had not set 
forth to the Crusade till he was sovereign of Scotland, the 
crescent might, for me, and all true-hearted Scots, glimmer 
forever on the walls of Zion.” 

Thus far he had proceeded, when, suddenly recollecting 
himself, he muttered : “ Mea culpa — mea culpa I 1 what have 
I, a soldier of the Cross, to do with recollection of war betwixt 
Christian nations h" 

The rapid expression of feeling corrected by the dictates of 
duty did not escape the Moslem, who, if he did not entirely 
understand all which it conveyed, saw enough to convince him 
with the assurance that Christians, as well as Moslemah, had 
private feelings of personal pique and national quarrels which 
were not entirely reconcilable. But the Saracens were a race 
polished, perhaps, to the utmost extent which their religion 
permitted, and particularly capable of entertaining high ideas 
of courtesy and politeness ; and such sentiments prevented his 
1 The fault is mine. 


30 


THE TALISMAN 


taking any notice of the inconsistency of Sir Kenneth’s feelings, 
in the opposite characters of a Scot and a Crusader. 

Meanwhile, as they advanced, the scene began to change 
around them. They were now turning to the eastward, and 
had reached the range of steep and barren hills which binds 
in that quarter the naked plain, and varies the surface of the 
country, without changing its sterile character. Sharp, rocky 
eminences began to arise around them, and, in a short time, 
deep declivities, and ascents, both formidable in height and 
difficult from the narrowness of the path, offered to the travel¬ 
lers obstacles of a different kind from those with which they 
had recently contended. Dark caverns and chasms amongst 
the rocks, those grottoes so often alluded to in Scripture, 
yawned fearfully on either side as they proceeded, and the 
Scottish knight was informed by the Emir that these were 
often the refuge of beasts of prey, or of men still more ferocious, 
who, driven to desperation by the constant war, and the oppres¬ 
sion exercised by the soldiery, as well of the Cross as of the 
Crescent, had become robbers, and spared neither rank nor 
religion, neither sex nor age, in their depredations. 

The light was now verging low, yet served the knight still 
to discern that they two were no longer alone in the forest, but 
were closely watched by a figure of great height and very thin, 
which skipped over rocks and bushes with so much agility as, 
added to the wild and hirsute 1 appearance of the individual, 
reminded him of the fauns and silvans whose images he had 
seen in the ancient temples of Rome. 

This apparition, on which his eyes had been fixed for some 
time, had at first appeared to dog their path by concealing itself 
behind rocks and shrubs, using those advantages of the ground 
with great address, and surmounting its irregularities with sur¬ 
prising agility. At length, the figure, which was that of a tall 
man clothed in goat-skins, sprung into the midst of the path, 
1 Hirsute: rough with hair. 


THE TALISMAN 


31 


and seized a rein of the Saracen’s bridle in either hand, con¬ 
fronting thus and bearing back the noble horse, which, unable 
to endure the manner in which this sudden assailant pressed 
the long-armed bit and the severe curb, which, according to 
the Eastern fashion, was a solid ring of iron, reared upright, 
and finally fell backwards on his master, who, however, avoided 
the peril of the fall by lightly throwing himself to one side. 

The assailant then shifted his grasp from the bridle of the 
horse to the throat of the rider, flung himself above the strug¬ 
gling Saracen, and, despite of his youth and activity, kept him 
undermost, wreathing his long arms above those of his prisoner, 
who called out angrily, and yet half-laughing at the same time: 
“ Hamako — fool — unloose me — this passes thy privilege — 
unloose me, or I will use my dagger.” 

“ Thy dagger, infidel dog ! ” said the figure in the goat-skins, 
“ hold it in thy gripe if thou canst! ” and in an instant he 
wrenched the Saracen’s weapon out of its owner’s hand and 
brandished it over bis head. 

“ Help, Nazarene ! ” cried Sheerkohf, now seriously alarmed 
— “help, or the Hamako will slay me.” 

The Christian knight had hitherto looked on as one stupefied, 
so strangely had this rencontre contradicted, in its progress and 
event, all that he had previously conjectured. He felt, how¬ 
ever, at length, that it touched his honor to interfere in behalf 
of his discomfited companion; and therefore addressed himself 
to the victorious figure in the goat-skins. 

“ Whosoe’er thou art,” he said, “ and whether of good or of 
evil, know that I am sworn for the time to be true companion to 
the Saracen whom thou holdest under thee; therefore, I pray thee 
to let him arise, else I will do battle with thee in his behalf.” 

“And a proper quarrel,it were,”answered the Hamako, “for 
a Crusader to do battle in — for the sake of an unbaptized dog 
to combat one of his own holy faith ! Art thou come forth to 
the wilderness to fight for the Crescent against the Cross ? ” 


32 


THE TALISMAN 


Yet, while he spoke thus, he arose himself, and, suffering the 
Saracen to arise also, returned him his cangiar or poniard. 

“ Thou seest to what a point of peril thy presumption hath 
brought thee,” continued he of the goat-skins, now addressing 
Sheerkohf, “ and by what weak means thy practised skill and 
boasted agility can be foiled, when such is Heaven’s pleasure.” 

“ Hamako,” said the Saracen, without any appearance of re¬ 
senting the violent assault to which he had been subjected — 
“I pray thee, good Hamako, to beware how thou dost again 
urge thy privilege over far; for though, as a good Moslem, I 
respect those whom Heaven hath deprived of ordinary reason, 
in order to endow them with the spirit of prophecy, yet I 
like not other men’s hands on the bridle of my horse, neither 
upon my own person. Speak, therefore, what thou wilt, secure 
of any resentment from me; but gather so much sense as to 
apprehend that if thou shalt again proffer me any violence, I 
will strike thy shagged head from thy meagre shoulders. And 
to thee, friend Kenneth,” he added, as he remounted his steed, 
“ I must needs say that, in a companion through the desert, I 
love friendly deeds better than fair words. Of the last thou 
hast given me enough ; but it had been better to have aided 
me more speedily in my struggle with this Hamako, who had 
wellnigh taken my life in his frenzy.” 

“By my faith,” said the knight, “I did somewhat fail — 
was somewhat tardy in rendering thee instant help; but 
the strangeness of the assailant, the suddenness of the scene 
had raised the devil among us, and such was my confusion, 
that two or three minutes elapsed ere I could take to my 
weapon.” 

“ Thou art but a cold and considerate friend,” said the 
Saracen; “ and, had the Hamako been one grain more frantic, 
thy companion had been slain by thy side, to thy eternal dis¬ 
honor, without thy stirring a finger in his aid, although thou 
satest by, mounted and in arms.” 


THE TALISMAN 


33 


“By my word, Saracen,” said the Christian, “if thou wilt 
I have it in plain terms, I thought that strange figure was the 
devil; and being of thy lineage, I knew not what family secret 
you might be communicating to each other, as you lay lovingly 
rolling together on the sand.” 

“ Thy gibe is no answer, brother Kenneth,” said the Saracen; 
“ for know that, had my assailant been in very deed the Prince 
j of Darkness, thou wert bound not the less to enter into combat 
with him in thy comrade’s behalf. Know, also, that whatever 
there may be of foul or of fiendish about the Hamako belongs 
more to your lineage than to mine, this Hamako being, in truth, 
the anchorite whom thou art come hither to visit.” 

“ This ! ” said Sir Kenneth, looking at the athletic yet wasted 
figure before him — “this? Thou mockest, Saracen : this can¬ 
not be the venerable Theodorick ! ” 

“Ask himself, if thou wilt not believe me,” answered Sheer- 
kohf; and ere the words had left his mouth the hermit gave 
evidence in his own behalf. 

“I am Theodorick of Engaddi,” he said; “I am the walker 
of the desert — I am friend of the cross, and flail of all infidels, 
heretics, and devil-worshippers. Avoid ye — avoid ye ! Down 
with Mahound, Termagaunt, 1 and all their adherents ! ” So say¬ 
ing, he pulled from under his shaggy garment a sort of flail or 
jointed club, bound with iron, which he brandished around his 
head with singular dexterity. 

“Thou seest thy saint,” said the Saracen, laughing, for the 
first time, at the unmitigated astonishment with which Sir 
Kenneth looked on the wild gestures and heard the wayward 
muttering of Theodorick, who, after swinging his flail in every 
direction, apparently quite reckless whether it encountered the 
head of either of his companions, finally showed his own 
strength and the soundness of the weapon by striking into 
fragments a large stone which lay near him. 

1 Names of insult to Mohammedans. 



34 


THE TALISMAN 


“ This is a madman,” said Sir Kenneth. 

“ Not the worse saint,” returned the Moslem, speaking ac¬ 
cording to the well-known Eastern belief that madmen are 
under the influence of immediate inspiration. “ Know, Chris-; 
tian, that when one eye is extinguished the other becomes more 
keen, when one hand is cut off the other becomes more power¬ 
ful ; so, when our reason in human things is disturbed or 
destroyed, our view heavenward becomes more acute and 
perfect.” 

Here the voice of the Saracen was drowned in that of the! 
hermit, who began to halloo aloud in a wild chanting tone: 
“I am Theodorick of Engaddi — I am the torch-brand of the 
desert — 1 am the flail of the infidels. The lion and the leop¬ 
ard shall be my comrades, and draw nigh to my cell for shel¬ 
ter, neither shall the goat be afraid of their fangs. I am the! 
torch and the lantern. Kyrie eleison / ” 1 

He closed his song by a short race, and ended that again by;! 
three forward bounds, which would have done him great credit ' 
in a gymnastic academy, but became his character of hermit 
so indifferently, that the Scottish knight was altogether con¬ 
founded and bewildered. 

The Saracen seemed to understand him better. “You see,” 
he said, “that he expects us to follow him to his cell, which,) 
indeed, is our only place of refuge for the night. You are the ! 
leopard, from the portrait on your shield; I am the lion, as 
my name imports; and, by the goat, alluding to his garb of 
goat-skins, he means himself. We must keep him in sight, 
however, for he is as fleet as a dromedary.” 

In fact, the task was a difficult one, for though the reverend 
guide stopped from time to time and waved his hand, as if to 
encourage them to come on, yet, well acquainted with all the 
winding dells and passes of the desert, and gifted with un¬ 
common activity, which, perhaps, an unsettled state of mind) 
1 Lord, have mercy upon us. 


THE TALISMAH 


35 


kept in constant exercise, he led the knights through chasms 
and along footpaths where even the light-armed Saracen, with 
j his well-trained barb, was in considerable risk, and where the 
I iron-sheathecl European and his overburdened horse found 
themselves in such imminent peril as the rider would gladly 
have exchanged for the dangers of a general action. Glad he 
[ was when, at length, after this wild race, he beheld the holy 
man who had led it standing in front of a cavern, with a large 
torch in his hand, composed of a piece of wood dipt in bitumen, 
which cast a broad and flickering light, and emitted a strong 
sulphureous smell. 

Undeterred by the stifling vapor, the Knight threw him¬ 
self from his horse and entered the cavern, which afforded 
small appearance of accommodation. The cell was divided 
into two parts, in the outward of which were an altar of stone 
and a crucifix made of reeds : this served the anchorite for his 
chapel. On one side of this outward cave the Christian 
knight, though not without scruple, arising from religious 
reverence to the objects around, fastened up his horse and ar¬ 
ranged him for the night in imitation of the Saracen, who 
gave him to understand that such was the custom of the place. 
The hermit, meanwhile, was busied putting his inner apart¬ 
ment in order to receive his guests, and there they soon joined 
him. At the bottom of the outer cave, a small aperture, closed 
with a door of rough plank, led into the sleeping-apartment of 
the hermit, which was more commodious. The floor had been 
brought to a rough level by the labor of the inhabitant, and 
then strewed with white sand, which he daily sprinkled with 
water from a small fountain which bubbled out of the rock in 
one comer, affording, in that stifling climate, refreshment 
alike to the ear and the taste. Mattresses, wrought of twisted 
flags, lay by the side of the cell; the sides, like the floor, had 
been roughly brought to shape, and several herbs and flowers 
were hung around them. Two waxen torches, which the her- 


36 


THE TALISMAN 


mit lighted, gave a cheerful air to the place, which was ren¬ 
dered agreeable by its fragrance and coolness. 

There were implements of labor in one corner of the apart¬ 
ment, in the other was a niche for a rude statue of the Virgin. 1 
A table and two chairs showed that they must be the handi¬ 
work of the anchorite, being different in their form from 
Oriental accommodations. The former was covered, not only 
with reeds and pulse, 2 but also with dried flesh, which Theodo- 
rick assiduously placed in such arrangement as should invite 
the appetite of his guests. This appearance of courtesy, 
though mute, and expressed by gesture only, seemed to Sir 
Kenneth something entirely irreconcilable with his former 
wild and violent demeanor. The movements of the hermit 
were now become composed, and apparently it was only a 
sense, of religious humiliation which prevented his features,: 
emaciated as they were by his austere mode of life, from being 
majestic and noble. He trode his cell as one who seemed born 
to rule over men, but who had abdicated his empire to become 
the servant of Heaven. Still, it must be allowed that his] 
gigantic size, the length of his unshaven locks and beard, and 
the fire of a deep-set and wild eye were rather attributes of a 
soldier than of a recluse. 

It was in silence, accordingly, that Theodorick motioned to | 
the Scot to take his place on one of the low chairs, while I 
Sheerkohf placed himself, after the custom of his nation, upon 
a cushion of mats. The hermit then held up both hands, as 
if blessing the refreshment which he had placed before ’his 
guests, and they proceeded to eat in silence as profound as his 
own. To the Saracen this gravity was natural, and the Chris¬ 
tian imitated his taciturnity, while he employed his thoughts 
on the singularity of his own situation, and the contrast be¬ 
twixt the wild, furious gesticulations, loud cries, and fierce] 

1 Virgin : the mother of Jesus. 

2 Pulse: leguminous plants, as beans, pease, etc. 



THE TALISMAN 


3 ' 


actions of Theodorick, when they first met him, and the de¬ 
mure, solemn, decorous assiduity with which he now performed 
the duties of hospitality. 

When their meal was ended, the hermit, who had not him¬ 
self eaten a morsel, removed the fragments from the table, and 
placing before the Saracen a pitcher of sherbet, assigned to the 
Scot a flask of wine. 

“ Drink,” he said, “ my children,” they were the first words 
he had spoken ; “ the gifts of God are to be enjoyed, when the 
Giver is remembered.” 

Having said this, he retired to the outward cell, probably 
for performance of his devotions, and left his guests together 
in the inner apartment. Theodorick, the hermit of Engaddi, 
had, in that character, been the correspondent of popes and 
councils; to whom his letters, full of eloquent fervor, had de¬ 
scribed the miseries imposed by the unbelievers upon the Latin 
Christians in the Holy Land, in colors scarce inferior to those 
employed at the Council of Clermont by the Hermit Peter, 
when he preached the first Crusade. To find, in a person so 
reverend and so much revered, the frantic gestures of a mad 
I fakir, induced the Christian knight to pause ere he could re¬ 
solve to communicate to him certain important matters which 
he had in charge from some of the leaders of the Crusade. 

It had been a main object of Sir Kenneth’s pilgrimage, at¬ 
tempted by a route so unusual, to make such communications; 
but what he had that night seen induced him to pause and 
reflect ere he proceeded to the execution of his commission. 
From the Emir he could not extract much information, but the 
general tenor was as follows: That, as he had heard, the her¬ 
mit had been once a brave and valiant soldier, wise in council 
and fortunate in battle, which last he could easily believe from 
the great strength and agility which he had often seen him dis¬ 
play ; that he had appeared at Jerusalem in the character not of 
a pilgrim, but in that of one who had devoted himself to dwell 



38 


THE TALISMAN 


for the remainder of his life in the Holy Land. Shortly after¬ 
wards, he fixed his residence amid the scenes of desolation where 
they now found him, respected by the Latins 1 for his austere 
devotion, and by the Turks and Arabs on account of the symp¬ 
toms of insanity which he displayed, and which they ascribed 
to inspiration. It was from them he had the name of Hamako, 
which expresses such a character in the Turkish language. 
Sheerkohf himself seemed at a loss how to rank their host. He 
had been, he said, a wise man, and could often for many hours 
together speak lessons of virtue or wisdom, without the slightest 
appearance of inaccuracy. At other times he was wild and 
violent, but never before had he seen him so mischievously dis¬ 
posed as he had that day appeared to be. His rage was chiefly 
provoked by an> affront to his religion; and there was a story 
of some wandering Arabs who had insulted his worship and 
defaced his altar, and "whom he had on that account attacked 
and slain with the short flail, which he carried with him in lieu 
of all other weapons. This incident had made a great noise, : 
and it was as much the fear of the hermit’s iron flail as regard 
for his character as a hamako which caused the roving tribes to 
respect his dwelling and his chapel. His fame had spread so 
far, that Saladin had issued particular orders that he should be 1 
spared and protected. He himself, and other Moslem lords of 
rank, had visited the cell more than once, partly from curiosity, 
partly that they expected from a man so learned as the Chris¬ 
tian hamako some insight into the secrets of futurity. “He; 
had,” continued the Saracen, “ an observatory of great height, 
contrived to view the heavenly bodies, and particularly the 
planetary system ; by whose movements and influences, as both 
Christian and Moslem believed, the course of human events was 
regulated, and might be predicted.” 2 

1 Latins: people of western Europe. 

2 During the Middle Ages and through many centuries before them, 
careful study was made of the heavenly bodies, because they were 







THE TALISMAN 


39 


This was the substance of the Emir Sheerkohf’s information, 
and it left Sir Kenneth in doubt whether the character of in¬ 
sanity arose from the occasional excessive fervor of the her¬ 
mit’s zeal, or whether it was not altogether fictitious, and 
assumed for the sake of the immunities which it afforded. Yet 
it seemed that the infidels had carried their complaisance 
towards him to an uncommon length, considering the fanati¬ 
cism of the followers of Mohammed, in the midst of whom he 
| was living, though the professed enemy of their faith.. He 
thought also there was more intimacy of acquaintance betwixt 
the hermit and the Saracen than the words of the latter had 
I induced him to anticipate ; and it had not escaped him that 
I the former had called the latter by a name different from that 
which he himself had assumed. All these considerations au¬ 
thorized caution, if not suspicion. He determined to observe 
his host closely, and not to be over-hasty in communicating 
with him on the important charge entrusted to him. 

“ Beware, Saracen,” he said; “ methinks our host’s imagi¬ 
nation wanders as well on the subject of names as upon other 
| matters. Thy name is Sheerkohf, and he called thee but now 
I by another.” 

“My name, when in the tent of my father,” replied the 
Kurdman, “ was Ilderim, and by this I am still distinguished 
| by many. In the field, and to soldiers, I am known as. the 
Lion of the Mountain, being the name my good sword hath 
won for me. But hush, the Hamako comes; it is to warn us to 
rest. I know his custom : none must watch him at his vigils.” 

The anchorite accordingly entered, and folding his arms on 

supposed to have influence over human affairs, and that the student of 
their movements could become able to foretell the fate of nations and 
individuals. This study was called astrology, and the master of its 
teachings an astrologer. He often became a person of great impor¬ 
tance and influence, and was consulted upon important occasions. But 
the chief value of it all was the preparation it unconsciously made for 
the introduction of the true science of astronomy. 






40 


THE TALISMAN 


his bosom as he stood before them, said with a solemn voice: 

“ Blessed be His name, who hath appointed the quiet night to 
follow the busy day, and the calm sleep to refresh the wearied 
limbs, and to compose the troubled spirit! ” 

Both warriors replied “ Amen ! ” and, arising from the table, 
prepared to betake themselves to the couches which their host 
indicated by waving his hand, as, making a reverence to each, i 
he again withdrew from the apartment. 

Each warrior prayed, ere he addressed himself to his place 
of rest. The Moslem turned towards his kebla , 1 the point to ( 
which the prayer of each follower of the Prophet was to be 
addressed, and murmured his heathen orisons ; 2 while the 
Christian, withdrawing from the contamination of the infidel's 
neighborhood, placed his huge cross-handled sword upright, ■ 
and kneeling before it as the sign of salvation, told his rosary ; 
with a devotion which was enhanced by the recollection of the j 
scenes through which he had passed, and the dangers from 
which he had been rescued in the course of the day. Both 
warriors, worn by toil and travel, were soon fast asleep, each ] 
on his separate pallet. 


CHAPTER IV 

Kenneth, the Scot, was uncertain how long his senses had j 
been lost in profound repose, when he was roused to recollec- { 
tion by a sense of oppression on his chest, which at first sug- j 
gested a flitting dream of struggling with a powerful opponent, j 
and at length recalled him fully to his senses. He was about. 
to demand who was there, when, opening his eyes, he beheld I 
the figure of the anchorite, wild and savage-looking as we have 
described him, standing by his bedside, and pressing his right 
hand upon his breast, while he held a small silver lamp in 
the other. 


1 Mecca. 


2 Orison: a prayer. 



THE TALISMAN 


41 


“ Be silent,” said the hermit, as the prostrate knight looked 
I up in surprise; “ I have that to say to you which yonder infidel 
must not hear. Arise, put on thy mantle; speak not, but tread 
lightly, and follow me.” 

Sir Kenneth arose and took his sword. 

• “It needs not,” answered the anchorite, in a whisper; “we 
are going where spiritual arms avail much, and fleshly weapons 
are but as the reed and the decayed gourd.” 

The knight deposited his sword by the bedside as before, 
and, armed only with his dagger, from which in this perilous 
country he never parted, prepared to attend his mysterious host. 

The hermit then moved slowly forwards, and was followed 
by the knight, still under some uncertainty whether the dark 
form which glided on before to show him the path was not, in 
fact, the creation of a disturbed dream. They passed, like 
shadows, into the outer apartment, without disturbing the 
paynim emir, who lay still buried in repose. Before the cross 
and altar, in the outward room, a lamp was still burning, a 
missal 1 was displayed, and on the floor lay a discipline or peni¬ 
tential scourge of small cord and wire, the lashes of which 
were recently stained with blood — a token, no doubt, of the 
severe penance of the recluse . 2 Here Theodorick kneeled 
down, and pointed to the knight to take his place beside him 
upon the sharp flints, which seemed placed for the purpose of 
rendering the posture of reverential devotion as uneasy as 
possible; he read many prayers of the Catholic Church, and 
chanted, in a low but earnest voice, three of the penitential 
psalms. These last he intermixed with sighs, and tears, and 
convulsive throbs, which bore witness how deeply he felt the 

1 Missal: a book containing the services of the Church. 

2 Self-flagellation, scourging with rods and knotted ropes, was held as 
an expiation for sin. This practice reached its height from the twelfth 
to the fourteenth centuries, when bands were organized for the purpose 
of public whippings, and the most cruel tortures were inflicted for com¬ 
paratively slight offences. 



42 


THE TALISMAN 


divine poetry which he recited. The Scottish knight assisted 
with profound sincerity at these acts of devotion, his opinions 
of his host beginning, in the meantime, to be so much changed■ 
that he doubted whether, from the severity of his penance and! 
the ardor of his prayers, he ought not to regard him as a 
saint; and when they arose from the ground, he stood with: 
reverence before him, as a pupil before an honored master. 
The hermit was on his side silent and abstracted for the space 
of a few minutes. 

“ Look into yonder recess, my son,” he said, pointing to the 
farther corner of the cell; “there thou wilt find a veil — bring 
it hither.” 

The knight obeyed; and, in a small aperture cut out of the 
wall, and secured with a door of wicker, he found the veil in¬ 
quired for. When he brought it to the light, he discovered 
that it was torn, and soiled in some places with some dark 
substance. The anchorite looked at it with a deep but smoth¬ 
ered emotion, and, ere he could speak to the Scottish knight, | 
was compelled to vent his feelings in a convulsive groan. 

“ Thou art now about to look upon the richest treasure that 
the earth possesses,” he at length said; “woe is me, that myf 
eyes are unworthy to be lifted towards it! Alas ! I am but 
the vile and despised sign, which points out to the wearied i 
traveller a harbor of rest and security, but must itself remain 
forever without doors. In vain have I fied to the very depths 
of the rocks and the very bosom of the thirsty desert. Mine| 
enemy hath found me — even he whom I have denied has pur- •, 
sued me to my fortresses ! ” 

He paused again for a moment, and turning to the Scottish i 
knight, said, in a firmer tone of voice : “ You bring me a greet- I 
ing from Richard of England ? ” 

“I come from the council of Christian princes,” said the 
knight; “ but the King of England being indisposed, I am not! 
honored with his Majesty’s commands.” 



THE TALISMAN 


43 


“Your token?” demanded the recluse. 

Sir Kenneth hesitated; former suspicions, and the marks of 
insanity which the hermit had formerly exhibited, rushed sud¬ 
denly on his thoughts; but how suspect a man whose manners 
were so saintly? “My password,” he said at length, “is this : 
. ‘ Kings begged of a beggar.’ ” 

“ It is right,” said the hermit, while he paused; “ I know 
you well, but the sentinel upon his post — and mine is an im¬ 
portant one — challenges friend as well as foe.” 

He then moved forward with the lamp, leading the way into 
I the room which they had left. The Saracen lay on his couch, 
still fast asleep. The hermit paused by his side and looked 
! down on him. 

“He sleeps soundly,” said the hermit, in a low tone; “he 
; sleeps in darkness, but there shall be for him a day spring. 
0 Ilderim, thy waking thoughts are yet as vain and wild as 
those which are wheeling their giddy dance through thy sleep¬ 
ing brain ; but the trumpet shall be heard, and the dream shall 
I be dissolved.” 

So saying, and making the knight a sign to follow him, the 
hermit went towards the altar, and, passing behind it, pressed 
j a spring, which, opening without noise, showed a small iron 
door wrought in the side of the cavern, so as to be almost im¬ 
perceptible, unless upon the most severe scrutiny. The her- 
[ mit, ere he ventured fully to open the door, dropt some oil on 
the hinges, which the lamp supplied. A small staircase, hewn 
in the rock, was discovered when the iron door was at length 
completely opened. 

- “ Take the veil which I hold,” said the hermit, in a melan¬ 
choly tone, “and blind mine eyes; for I may not look on the 
treasure which thou art presently to behold, without sin and 
presumption.” 

Without reply, the knight hastily muffled the recluse’s head 
in the veil, and the latter began to ascend the staircase as one 





44 


THE TALISMAN 


too much accustomed to the way to require the use of light, 
while at the same time he held the lamp to the Scot, who fol¬ 
lowed him for many steps up the narrow ascent. At length. 
they rested in a small vault of irregular form, in one nook of \ 
which the staircase terminated, while in another corner a cor¬ 
responding stair was seen to continue the ascent. In a third 1 
angle was a Gothic door, very rudely ornamented with the usual 
attributes of clustered columns and carving, and defended by a 
wicket, strongly guarded with iron, and studded with large nails. 
To this last point the hermit directed his steps, which seemed 
to falter as he approached it. 

“ Put off thy shoes,” he said to his attendant; “ the ground 
on which thou standest is holy. Banish from thy innermost 
heart each profane and carnal thought, for to harbor such whilei 
in this place were a deadly impiety.” 

The knight laid aside his shoes as he was commanded, and 
the hermit stood in the meanwhile as if communing with his 
soul in secret prayer, and when he again moved, commanded 
the knight to knock at the wicket three times. He did so. 
The door opened spontaneously, at least Sir Kenneth beheld 
no one, and his senses were at once assailed by a stream of! 
the purest light, and by a strong and almost oppressive sense) 
of the richest perfumes. He stepped two or three paces back, > 
and it was the space of a minute ere he recovered the dazzling! 
and overpowering effects of the sudden change from darkness \ 
to light. 

When he entered the apartment in which this brilliant lustre 
was displayed, he perceived that the light proceeded from a 
combination of silver lamps, fed with purest oil, and sending!] 
forth the richest odors, hanging by silver chains from the 
roof of a small Gothic chapel, hewn, like most part of the}] 
hermit’s singular mansion, out of the sound and solid rock. 
But, whereas, in every other place which Sir Kenneth had 
seen, the labor employed upon the rock had been of the sim- 


THE TALISMAN 


45 


plest and coarsest description, it had in this chapel employed 
the invention and the chisels of the most able architects. The 
groined roof rose from six columns on each side, carved with 
the rarest skill; and the manner in which the crossings of the 
concave arches were bound together, as it were, with appro¬ 
priate ornaments, was all in the finest tone of the architecture 
and of the age. Corresponding to the line of pillars, there 
were on each side six richly wrought niches, each of which 
contained the image of one of the twelve apostles. 

At the upper and eastern end of the chapel stood the altar, 
behind which a very rich curtain of Persian silk, embroidered 
deeply with gold, covered a recess, containing, unquestionably, 
some image or relic of no ordinary sanctity, in honor of 
whom this singular place of worship had been erected. Under 
the persuasion that this must be the case, the knight advanced 
to the shrine, and, kneeling down before it, repeated his devo¬ 
tions with fervency, during which his attention was disturbed 
by the curtain being suddenly raised, or rather pulled aside, 
how or by whom he saw not; but in the niche which was thus 
disclosed he beheld a cabinet of silver and ebony, with a double 
folding-door, the whole formed into the miniature resemblance 
of a Gothic church. 

As he gazed with anxious curiosity on the shrine, the two 
folding-doors also flew open, discovering a large piece of wood, 
on which were blazoned the words .“Vera Crux,’ m at the 
same time a choir of female voices sung Gloria Patri. 2 The 
instant the strain had ceased, the shrine was closed and the 
curtain again drawn, and the knight who knelt at the altar 
might now continue his devotions undisturbed in honor of 
the holy relic which had been just disclosed to his view. He 
did this under the profound impression of one who had wit¬ 
nessed, with his own eyes, an awful evidence of the truth of 
his religion, and it was some time ere, concluding his orisons, 
i The true cross. 2 Glory to the Father. 


46 


THE TALISMAN 


he arose and ventured to look around him for the hermit, who 
had guided him to this sacred and mysterious spot. He beheld 
him, his head still muffled in the veil which he had himselfJ 
wrapped around it, couching, like a rated hound, upon the! 
threshold of the chapel, but, apparently, without venturing to 
cross it: the holiest reverence, the most penitential remorseij 
was expressed by his posture, which seemed that of a man 
borne down and crushed to the earth by the burden of his 
inward feelings. It seemed to the Scot that only the sense 
of the deepest penitence, remorse, and humiliation could haven 
thus prostrated a frame so strong and a spirit so fiery. 

He approached him as if to speak, but the recluse anticipated; 
his purpose, murmuring in stifled tones from beneath the foldj 
in which his head was muffled, and which sounded like a voice .; 
proceeding from the cerements of a corpse : “ Abide — abide J 
happy thou that mayst — the vision is not yet ended.” So 
saying, he reared himself from the ground, drew back from 
the threshold on which he had hitherto lain prostrate, and' 
closed the door of the chapel, which, secured by a spring-bolt 
within, the snap of which resounded through the place, ap-. 
peared so much like a part of the living rock from which the 
cavern was hewn that Kenneth could hardly discern where the ] 
aperture had been. He was now alone in the lighted chapel, 
which contained the relic to which he had lately rendered hisii 
homage, without other arms than his dagger, or other compan¬ 
ion than his pious thoughts and dauntless courage. 

Uncertain what was next to happen, but resolved to abide 
the course of events, Sir Kenneth paced the solitary chapel till 
about the time of the earliest cock-crowing. At this dead* 
season, when night and morning met together, he heard, but 
from what quarter he could not discover, the sound of such a 
small silver bell as is rung at the elevation of the host, in 
the ceremony, or sacrifice, as it has been called, of the mass. 
The hour and the place rendered the sound fearfully solemn, 



THE TALISMAN 


47 


ii and, bold as he was, the knight withdrew himself into the 

i farther nook of the chapel, at the end opposite to the altar, 

1 in order to observe, without interruption, the consequences of 

ii this unexpected signal. 

» He did not wait long ere the silken curtain was again with- 
i drawn, and the relic again presented to his view. As he sunk 

i reverentially on his knee, he heard the sound of the lauds, 1 or 

ii earliest office of the Catholic Church, sung by female voices, 
ii which united together in the performance as they had done in 
■( the former service. The knight was soon aware that the voices 

were no longer stationary in the distance, but approached the 
(j chapel and became louder, when a door, imperceptible when 
( closed, like that by which he had himself entered, opened on 
t the other side of the vault, and gave the tones of the choir 
more room to swell along the ribbed arches of the roof, 
j The knight fixed his eyes on the opening with breathless 
( anxiety, and, continuing to kneel in the attitude of devotion 
I which the place and scene required, expected the consequence 
of these preparations. A procession appeared about to issue 
from the door. First, four beautiful boys, whose arms, neck, 
and legs were bare, showing the bronze complexion of the 
East, and contrasting with the snow-white tunics which they 
wore, entered the chapel by two and two. The first pair bore 
censers, w r hich they swung from side to side, adding double 
fragrance to the odors with which the chapel already was 
impregnated. The second pair scattered flowers. 

After these followed, in due and majestic order, the females 
who composed the choir — six who, from their black scapularies 2 
and black veils over their white garments, appeared to be pro- 
I fessed nuns of the order of Mount Carmel, and as many whose 
l veils, being white, argued them to be novices, or occasional 
inhabitants in the cloister, who were not as yet bound to it by 

1 Lauds: praises. 

2 Scapularies: garments used in acts of devotion. 




48 


THE TALISMAN 


vows. The former held in their hands large rosaries, while 
the younger and lighter figures who followed carried each a 
chaplet of red and white roses. They moved in procession 
around the chapel without appearing to take the slightest notice 
of Kenneth, although passing so near him that their robes 
almost touched him; while they continued to sing, the knight >' 
doubted not that he was in one of those cloisters where the 
noble Christian maidens had formerly openly devoted them¬ 
selves to the services of the church. Most of them had been j 
suppressed since the Mahometans had reconquered Palestine, i 
but many, purchasing connivance by presents, or receiving it | 
from the clemency or contempt of the victors, still continued i 
to observe in private the ritual to which their vows had conse-1 
crated them. Yet, though Kenneth knew this to be the case, j 
the solemnity of the place and hour, the surprise at the sudden i! 
appearance ot these votresses, and the visionary manner in I 
which they moved past him, had such influence on his imagi- f 
nation, that he could scarce conceive that the fair procession 
which he beheld was formed of creatures of this world, so* 
much did they resemble a choir of supernatural beings render-! 
ing homage to the universal object of adoration. 

But as a second time, in surrounding the chapel, they passed j 
the spot on which he kneeled, one of the white-stoled maidens I 
as she glided by him, detached from the chaplet which she car¬ 
ried a rosebud, which dropped from her fingers, perhaps uncon-! 
sciously, on the foot of Sir Kenneth. The knight started as if a i 
dart had suddenly struck his person; for, when the mind is wound I 
i\P a high pitch of feeling and expectation, the slightest in-J 
cident, if unexpected, gives fire to the train which imagination | 
has already laid. But he suppressed his emotion, recollecting \ 
how easily an incident so indifferent might have happened i 
and that it was only the uniform monotony of the movement of! 
the choristers which made the incident in the slightest degree 
lemarKaDle. 1 , 


THE TALISMAN 


49 


Still, while the procession for the third time surrounded the 
chapel, the thoughts and the eyes of Kenneth followed exelu- 
i sively the one among the novices who had dropped the rosebud. 
Her step, her face, her form were so completely assimilated to 
the rest of the choristers, that it was impossible to perceive the 
least marks of individuality, and yet Kenneth’s heart throbbed 
like a bird that would burst from its cage, as if to assure him, 
i by its sympathetic suggestions, that the female who held the 
i right file on the second rank of the novices was dearer to him, 
not only than all the rest that were present, but than the whole 
sex besides. The romantic passion of love, as it was cherished, 
I and indeed enjoined, by the rules of chivalry, associated well 
j with the no less romantic feelings of devotion; and they might 
i be said much more to enhance than to counteract each other, 
i It was, therefore, with a glow of expectation that had some- 
i thing even of a religious character that Sir Kenneth, his sensa¬ 
tions thrilling from his heart to the ends of his fingers, expected 
some second sign of the presence of one who, he strongly fancied, 

| had already bestowed on him the first. Short as the space was 
j during which the procession again completed a third perambula- 
j tion of the chapel, it seemed an eternity to Kenneth. At length 
i the form which he had watched with such devoted attention 
drew nigh ; there was no difference betwixt that shrouded figure 
and the others with whom it moved in concert and in unison, 

, until, just as she passed for the third time the kneeling Cru- 
j sader, a part of a little and well-proportioned hand, so beauti¬ 
fully formed as to give the highest idea of the perfect proportions 
of the form to which it belonged, stole through the folds of the 
gauze, like a moonbeam through the fleecy cloud of a summer 
night, and again a rosebud lay at the feet of the Knight of the 
Leopard. 

This second intimation could not be accidental: it could not 
be fortuitous — the resemblance of that half-seen, but beautiful, 
female hand with one which his lips had once touched, and, 




50 


THE TALISMAN 


while they touched it, had internally sworn allegiance to the 
lovely owner. Had farther proof been wanting, there was the 
glimmer of that matchless ruby ring on that snow-white finger,' 
whose invaluable worth Kenneth would yet have prized less 
than the slightest sign which that finger could have made; and, 
veiled too, as she was, he might see, by chance or by favor, a 
stray curl of the dark tresses, each hair of which was dearer to 
him a hundred times than a chain of massive gold. It was the 
lady of his love! But that she should be here, in the savage 
and sequestered desert, among vestals who rendered themselves 
habitants of wilds and of caverns that they might perform in 
secret those Christian rites which they dared not assist in openly 
that this should be so, in truth and in reality, seemed too 
incredible : it must be a dream — a delusive trance of the im¬ 
agination. While these thoughts passed through the mind of 1 
Kenneth, the same passage by which the procession had entered ! 
the chapel received them on their return. The young sacris¬ 
tans, 1 the sable nuns vanished successively through the open 
door; at length she from whom he had received this double 
intimation passed also; yet, in passing, turned her head, slightly 
indeed, but perceptibly, towards the place where he remained 
fixed as an image. He marked the last wave of her veil; it 
was gone —and a darkness sunk upon his soul, scarce less pal¬ 
pable than that which almost immediately enveloped his exter¬ 
nal sense; for the last chorister had no sooner crossed the 
thieshold of the door than it shut with a loud sound, and at 
the same instant the voices of the choir were silent, the lights 
of the chapel were at once extinguished, and Sir Kenneth 
remained solitary and in total darkness. But to Kenneth soli¬ 
tude and darkness, and the uncertainty of his mysterious situa¬ 
tion, were as nothing: he thought not of them —cared not for . 
them—cared for nought in the world save the flitting vision 
which had just glided past him, and the tokens of her favor 
1 Sacristans: persons having care of the utensils of service. 






THE TALISMAN 


51 


e which she had bestowed. To grope on the floor for the 
e buds which she had dropped — to press them to his lips — 
to his bosom — now alternately, now together—to rivet his 
,\ips to the cold stones on which, as near as he could judge, she 
had so lately stept — to play all the extravagances which strong 
3 affection suggests and vindicates to those who yield themselves 
o up to it, were but the tokens of passionate love common to all 
ages. But it was peculiar to the times of chivalry, that in his 
, wildest rapture the knight imagined of no attempt to follow 
s or to trace the object of such romantic attachment; that he 
3 thought of her as of a deity, who, having deigned to show her- 
l self for an instant to her devoted worshipper, had again returned 
it to the darkness of her sanctuary, or as an influential planet, 
j. which, having darted in some auspicious minute one favorable 
| ray, wrapped itself again in its veil of mist. The motions of 
the lady of his love were to him those of a superior being, who 
was to move without watch or control, rejoice him by her ap¬ 
pearance or depress him by her absence, animate him by her 
kindness or drive him to despair by her cruelty — all at her 
own free-will, and without other importunity or remonstrance 
j han that expressed by the most devoted services of the heart 
and sword of the champion, whose sole object in life was to 
fulfil her commands, and, by the splendor of his own achieve¬ 
ments, to exalt her fame. 

Such were the rules of chivalry, and of the love which was 
its ruling principle. But Sir Kenneth’s attachment was ren¬ 
dered romantic by other and still more peculiar circumstances. 
He had never even heard the sound of his lady’s voice, though 
he had often beheld her beauty with rapture. She moved in 

circle which his rank of knighthood permitted him indeed to 
approach, but not to mingle with,; and highly as he stood dis- 
| tinguished for warlike skill and enterprise, still the poor Scot- 
: fish soldier was compelled to worship his divinity at a distance 
almost as great as divides the Persian from the sun which he 



52 


THE TALISMAN 


adores. But when was the pride of woman too lofty to over-! 
look the passionate devotion of a lover, however inferior inj 
degree? Her eye had been on him in the tournament, her ear'! 
had heard his praises in the report of the battles which werej 
daily fought; and while count, duke, and lord contended fori 
her grace, it flowed, unwillingly perhaps, at first, or even un-l 
consciously, towards the poor Knight of the Leopard, who, to# 
support his rank, had little besides his sword. When shell 
looked, and when she listened, the lady saw and heard enough* 
to encourage her in a partiality which had at first crept on her? 
unawares. If a knight’s personal beauty was praised, even the! 
most prudish dames of the military court of England would 
make an exception in favor of the Scottish Kenneth; and it 
oftentimes happened that, notwithstanding the very consider-i 
able largesses which princes and peers bestowed on the min i 
strels, an impartial spirit of independence would seize the poet,! 
and the harp was swept to the heroism of one who had neither: 
palfreys nor garments to bestow in guerdon of his applause. 1 

The moments when she listened to the praises of her lover! 
became gradually more and more dear to the high-born Edith,j( 
relieving the flattery with which her ear was weary, and pre i 
sen ting to her a subject of secret contemplation, more worthy,! 
as he seemed by general report, than those who surpassed him inj 
rank and in the gifts of fortune. As her attention became com 
stantly, though cautiously, fixed on Sir Kenneth, she grew more! 
and more convinced of his personal devotion to herself, pull 
more and more certain in her mind that in Kenneth of Scotland! 
she beheld the fated knight doomed to share with her through) 
weal and woe — and the prospect looked gloomy and dangerous 
— the passionate attachment to which the poets of the age 
ascribed such universal dominion, and which its manners and 
morals placed nearly on the same rank with devotion itself. 

Let us not disguise the truth from our readers. When 
Edith became aware of the state of her own sentiments, chiv 




THE TALISMAN 


alrous as were her sentiments, becoming a maiden not distant 
from the throne of England, gratified as her pride must have 
been with the mute though unceasing homage rendered to her 
by the knight whom she had distinguished, there were moments 
when the feelings of the woman, loving and beloved, murmured 
against the restraints of state and form by which she was sur¬ 
rounded, and when she almost blamed the timidity of her lover, 
who seemed resolved not to infringe them. The etiquette, to 
use a modern phrase, of birth and rank had drawn around her a 
magical circle, beyond which Sir Kenneth might indeed bow and 
gaze, but within which he could no more pass than an evoked 
spirit can transgress the boundaries prescribed by the rod of a 
powerful enchanter. The thought involuntarily pressed on her, 
that she herself must venture, were it but the point of her 
fairy foot, beyond the prescribed boundary, if she ever hoped to 
give a lover so reserved and bashful an opportunity of so slight 
a favor as but to salute her shoe-tie. Something, however, 
within the maiden’s bosom — that modest pride which throws 
fetters even on love itself— forbade her, notwithstanding the 
superiority of her condition, to make those advances which, in 
every case, delicacy assigns to the other sex; above all, Sir 
Kenneth was a knight so gentle and honorable, so highly ac¬ 
complished, as her imagination at least suggested, together with 
the strictest feelings of what was due to himself and to her, 
that, however constrained her attitude might be while receiving 
his adorations, like the image of some deity, who is neither sup¬ 
posed to feel nor to reply to the homage of its votaries, still the 
idol feared that to step prematurely from her pedestal would be 
to degrade herself in the eyes of her devoted worshipper. 

Yet the devout adorer of an actual idol can even discover 
signs of approbation in the rigid and immovable features of a 
marble image, and it is no wonder that something, which could 
be as favorably interpreted, glanced from the bright eye of 
the lovely Edith, whose beauty, indeed, consisted rather more 


54 


THE TALISMAN 


in that very power of expression than on absolute regularity of 
contour or brilliancy of complexion. Some slight marks of dis¬ 
tinction had escaped from her, notwithstanding her own jealous 
vigilance, else how could Sir Kenneth have so readily, and so 
undoubtingly, recognized the lovely hand, of which scarce two 
fingers were visible from under the veil, W how could he have 
rested so thoroughly assured that two flowers, successively dropt 
on the spot, were intended as a recognition on the part of his 
lady-love ? By what train of observation, by what secret signs, 
looks, or gestures, by what instinctive freemasonry of love, this 
degree of intelligence came to subsist between Edith and her 
lover, we cannot attempt to trace; for we are old, and such 
slight vestiges of affection, quickly discovered by younger eyes, 
defy the power of ours. Enough, that such affection did sub¬ 
sist between parties who had never even spoken to one another, 
though, on the side of Edith, it was checked by a deep sense of 
the difficulties and dangers which must necessarily attend the 
further progress of their attachment, and upon that of the 
knight by a thousand doubts and fears, lest he had overesti¬ 
mated the slight tokens of the lady’s notice, varied, as they 
necessarily were, by long intervals of apparent coldness, during 
which either the fear of exciting the observation of others, and 
thus drawing danger upon her lover, or that of sinking in his 
esteem by seeming too willing to be won, made her behave 
with indifference, and as if unobservant of his presence. 


THE TALISMAN 


55 


CHAPTER V 

Their necromantic forms in vain 
Haunt us on the tented plain ; 

We bid these spectre shapes avaunt, 

Ashtaroth and Termagaunt. 

Warton. 

The most profound silence, the deepest darkness continued 
to brood for more than an hour over the chapel in which we 
left the Knight of the Leopard still kneeling, alternately ex¬ 
pressing thanks to Heaven and gratitude to his lady, for the 
boon which had been vouchsafed to him. His own safety, his 
own destiny, for which he was at all times little anxious, had 
not now the weight of a grain of dust in his reflections. He 
was in the neighborhood of Lady Edith, he had received tokens 
of her grace, he was in a place hallowed by relics of the most 
awful sanctity. A Christian soldier, a devoted lover could fear 
nothing, think of nothing, but his duty to Heaven and his devoir 
to his lady. 

At the lapse of the space of time which we have noticed, a 
shrill whistle, like that with which a falconer calls his hawk, 
was heard to ring sharply through the vaulted chapel. It was 
a sound ill suited to the place, and reminded Sir Kenneth how 
necessary it was he should be upon his guard. He started from 
his knee, and laid his hand upon his poniard. A creaking sound, 
as of a screw or pulley, succeeded, and a light streaming up¬ 
wards, as from an opening in the floor, showed that a trap-door 
had been raised or depressed. In less than a minute, a long 
skinny arm, partly naked, partly clothed in a sleeve of red 
samite, 1 arose out of the aperture, holding a lamp as high as it 
could stretch upwards, and the figure to which the arm belonged 
ascended step by step to the level of the chapel floor. The form 
1 Samite: silk interwoven with gold. 


56 


THE TALISMAN 


and face of the being who thus presented himself were those of 
a frightful dwarf, with a large head, a cap fantastically adorned 
with three.peacock-feathers, a dress of red samite, the richness 
of which rendered his ugliness more conspicuous, distinguished 
by gold bracelets and armlets, and a white silk sash, in which 
he wore a gold-hilted dagger. This singular figure had in his 
left hand a kind of broom. So soon as he had stepped from 
the aperture through which he arose, he stood still, and, as if 
to show himself more distinctly, moved the lamp which he 
held slowly over his face and person, successively illumiilating 
his wild and fantastic features, and his misshapen, but nervous, 
limbs. Though disproportioned in person, the dwarf was not 
so distorted as to argue any waijt. of strength or activity. While 
Sir Kenneth gazed on this disagreeable object, the popular creed 
occurred to his remembrance, concerning the gnomes, or earthly 
spirits, which make their abode in the caverns of the earth ; and 
so much did this figure correspond with ideas he had formed of 
their appearance, that he looked on it with disgust, mingled 
not indeed with fear, but that sort of awe which the presence 
of a supernatural creature may infuse into the most steady bosom. 

The dwarf again whistled, and summoned from beneath a 
companion. This second figure ascended in the same manner 
as the first; but it was a female arm, in this second instance, 
which upheld the lamp from the subterranean vault out of which 
these presentments arose, and it was a female form much re¬ 
sembling the first in shape and proportions which slowly emerged 
from the floor. Her dress was also of red samite, fantastically 
cut and flounced, as if she had been dressed for some exhibition 
of mimes 1 or jugglers; and with the same minuteness which 
her predecessor had exhibited, she passed the lamp over her 
face and person, which seemed to rival the male’s in ugliness. 
But, with all this most unfavorable exterior, there was one trait 
in the features of both which argued alertness and intelligence 
1 Mimes: actors who mimic or play the buffoon. 


THE TALISMAN 


57 


in the most uncommon degree. This arose from the brilliancy 
of their eyes, which, deep-set beneath black and shaggy brows, 
gleamed with a lustre which, like that in the eye of the toad, 
seemed to make some amends for the extreme ugliness of coun¬ 
tenance and person. 

Sir Kenneth remained as if spellbound, while this unlovely 
pair, moving round the chapel close to each other, appeared to 
perform the duty of sweeping it, like menials; but, as they used 
only one hand, the floor was not much benefited by the exercise, 
which they plied with such oddity of gestures and manner as 
befitted their bizarre and fantastic appearance. When they 
approached near to the knight, in the course of their occupation, 
they ceased to use their brooms^and placing themselves side by 
side, directly opposite to Sir Kenneth, they again slowly shifted 
the lights which they held, so as to allow him distinctly to sur¬ 
vey features wdiich were not rendered more agreeable by being 
brought nearer, and to observe the extreme quickness and keen¬ 
ness with which their black and glittering eyes flashed back the 
light of the lamps. They then turned the gleam of both lights 
upon the knight, and having accurately surveyed him, turned 
their faces to each other, and set up a loud yelling laugh, which 
resounded in his ears. The sound was so ghastly, that Sir 
Kenneth started at hearing it, and hastily demanded, in the 
name of God, who they were who profaned that holy place with 
such antic gestures and elritch exclamations. 

“Iam the dwarf Nectabanus,” said the abortion-seeming male, 
in a voice corresponding to his figure, and resembling the voice of 
the night-crow more than any sound which is heard by daylight. 

“And I am Guenevra, his lady and his love,” replied the 
female, in tones which, being shriller, were yet wilder than 
those of her companion. 

“Wherefore are you here?” again demanded the knight, 
scarcely yet assured that it was human beings which he saw 
before him. 


58 


THE TALISMAN 


“I am,” replied the male dwarf, with much assumed grav¬ 
ity and dignity, “the twelfth imaum 1 — I am Mohammed 
Mohadi, the guide and the conductor of the faithful. An 
hundred horses stand ready saddled for me and my train at 
the Holy City, and as many at the City of Refuge. I am he 
who shall bear witness, and this is one of my houris.” 

“Thou liest,” answered the female, interrupting hfer com¬ 
panion, in tones yet shriller than his own : “I am none of thy 
houris, and thou art no such infidel trash as the Mohammed 
of whom thou speakest. May my curse rest upon his coffin ! 

I tell thee, thou ass of Issachar, 2 thou art King Arthur of 
Britain, whom the fairies stole away from the field of Avalon ; 3 
and I am Dame Guenevra, famed for her beauty.” 

“ But in truth, noble sir,” said the male, “ we are distressed 
princes, dwelling under the wing of King Guy of Jerusalem, 4 
until he was driven out from his own nest by the foul infidels 
— Heaven’s bolts consume them ! ” 

“ Hush,” said a voice from the side upon which the knight 
had entered — “hush, fools, and begone; your ministry is 
ended.” 

The dwarfs had no sooner heard the command than, gibber- 1 
ing in discordant whispers to each other, they blew out their 
lights at once, and left the knight in utter darkness, which, ! 
when the pattering of their retiring feet had died away, w*as 
soon accompanied by its fittest companion, total silence. 

The knight felt the departure of these unfortunate crea- ; 
tures a relief. He could not, from their language, manners, 1 
and appearance, doubt that they belonged to the degraded j 
class of beings whom deformity of person and weakness of I 
intellect recommended to the painful situation of appendages j 
to great families, where their personal appearance and imbe-! 

1 Imaum: a priest among the Mohammedans who performs the ! 
service of the mosque. 

2 Genesis xlix. 14, 15. 3 See Tennyson’s Idylls of the King . 

4 Guy of Lusignan was chosen King of Jerusalem in 1186. 


THE TALISMAN 


59 


cility were food for merriment to the household. Superior in 
no respect to the ideas and manners of his time, the Scottish 
knight might, at another period, have been much amused by 
the mummery of these poor effigies of humanity ; but now 
their appearance, gesticulations, and language broke the train 
of deep and solemn feeling with which he was impressed, and 
he rejoiced in the disappearance of the unhappy objects. 

A few minutes after they had retired, the door at which 
he had entered opened slowly, and, remaining ajar, dis¬ 
covered a faint light arising from a lantern placed upon the 
threshold. Its doubtful and wavering gleam showed a dark 
form reclined beside the entrance, but without its precincts, 
which, on approaching it more nearly, he recognized to be 
the hermit, couching in the same humble posture in which 
he had at first laid himself down, and which doubtless he had 
retained during the whole time of his guest’s continuing in 
the chapel. 

“ All is over,” said the hermit, as he heard the knight ap¬ 
proaching, “and the most wretched of earthly sinners, with 
him who should think himself most honored and most happy 
among the race of humanity, must retire from this place. 
Take the light, and guide me down the descent, for I may 
not uncover my eyes until I am far from this hallowed spot.” 

The Scottish knight obeyed in silence, for a solemn and yet 
ecstatic sense of what he had seen had silenced even the eager 
workings of curiosity. He led the way, with considerable ac¬ 
curacy, through the various secret passages and stairs by which 
they had ascended, until at length they found themselves in 
the outward cell of the hermit’s cavern. 

“ The condemned criminal is restored to his dungeon, re¬ 
prieved from one miserable day to another, until his awful 
Judge shall at length appoint the well-deserved sentence to 
be carried into execution.” 

As the hermit spoke these words, he laid aside the veil 


60 


THE TALISMAN 


with which his eyes had been bound, and looked at it with a 
suppressed and hollow sigh. No sooner had he restored it 
to the crypt from which he had caused the Scot to bring it 
than he said hastily and sternly to his companion : “ Begone — 
begone ! to rest — to rest! You may sleep — you can bleep; 
I neither can nor may.” 

Respecting the profound agitation with which this was 
spoken, the knight retired into the inner cell; but, casting 
back his eye as he left the exterior grotto, he beheld the an¬ 
chorite stripping his shoulders with frantic haste of their 
shaggy mantle, and ere he could shut the frail door which 
separated the two compartments of the cavern, he heard the 
clang of the scourge, and the groans of the penitent under his 
self-inflicted penance. A cold shudder came over the knight 
as he reflected what could be the foulness of the sin, what the 
depth of the remorse, which, apparently, such severe penance 
could neither cleanse nor assuage. He told his beads de¬ 
voutly, and flung himself on his rude couch, after a glance at 
the still sleeping Moslem, and, wearied by the various scenes 
of the day and the night, soon slept as sound as infancy. 
Upon his awaking in the morning, he held certain conferences 
with the hermit upon matters of importance, and the result of 
their intercourse induced him to remain for two days longer 
in the grotto. He was regular, as became a pilgrim, in his 
devotional exercises, but was not again admitted to the chapel 
in which he had seen such wonders. 

CHAPTER VI 

Now change the scene — and let the trumpet sound. 

For we must rouse the lion from his lair. 

Old Play. 

The scene must change, as our programme has announced, 
from the mountain wilderness of Jordan to the camp of King 


THE TALISMAN 


61 


Richard of England, then stationed betwixt Jean d’Acre and 
Ascalon, 1 and containing that army with which he of the Lion 
Heart had promised himself a triumphant march to Jerusalem, 
and in which he would probably have succeeded, if not hin¬ 
dered by the jealousies of the Christian princes engaged in the 
same enterprise, and the offence taken by them at the uncurbed 
haughtiness of the English monarch, and Richard’s unveiled 
contempt for his brother sovereigns, who, his equals in rank, 
were yet far his inferiors in courage, hardihood, and military 
talents. Such discords, and particularly those betwixt Rich¬ 
ard and Philip of France, created disputes and obstacles which 
impeded every active measure proposed by the heroic though 
impetuous Richard, while the ranks of the Crusaders were 
daily thinned not only by the desertion of individuals, but of 
entire bands, headed by their respective feudal leaders, who 
withdrew from a contest in which they had ceased to hope for 
success. 

The effects of the climate became, as usual, fatal to soldiers 
from the north, and the more so, that the dissolute license of 
the Crusaders, forming a singular contrast to the principles 
and purpose of their taking up arms, rendered them more easy 
victims to the insalubrious influence of burning heat and chill¬ 
ing dews. To these discouraging • causes of loss was to be 
added the sword of the enemy. Saladin, than whom no 
greater name is recorded in Eastern history, had learnt to his 
fatal experience that his light-armed followers were little able 
to meet in close encounter with the ironclad Franks, and had 
been taught, at the same time, to apprehend and dread the 
adventurous character of his antagonist Richard. But, if his 
armies were more than once routed with great slaughter, his 
numbers gave the Saracen the advantage in those lighter skir¬ 
mishes of which many were inevitable. 

As the army of his assailants decreased, the enterprises of 
1 Cities on the coast. 


62 


THE TALISMAN 


the Sultan became more numerous and more bold in this 
species of petty warfare. The camp of the Crusaders was sur¬ 
rounded, and almost besieged, by clouds of light cavalry, re¬ 
sembling swarms of wasps, easily crushed when they are once 
grasped, but furnished with wings to elude superior strength 
and stings to inflict harm and mischief. There was perpet¬ 
ual warfare of posts and foragers, in which many valuable 
lives were lost, without any corresponding object being 
gained; convoys were intercepted, and communications were 
cut off. The Crusaders had to purchase the means of sustain¬ 
ing life by life itself; and water, like that of the well of 
Bethlehem, longed for by King David, 1 one of its ancient mon- 
archs, was then, as before, only obtained by the expenditure 
of blood. 

These evils were, in a great measure, counterbalanced by 
the stern resolution and restless activity of King Richard, 
who, with some of his best knights, was ever on horseback, 
ready to repair to any point where danger occurred, and often 
not only bringing unexpected succor to the Christians, but 
discomfiting the infidels when they seemed most secure of vic¬ 
tory. But even the iron frame of Coeur-de-Lion could not 
support, without injury, the alternations of the unwholesome 
climate, joined to ceaseless exertions of body and mind. He 
became afflicted with one of those slow and wasting fevers 
peculiar to Asia, and, in despite of his great strength, and 
still greater courage, grew first unfit to mount on horseback, 
and then unable to attend the councils of war, which were, 
from time to time, held by the Crusaders. It was difficult to 
say whether this state of personal inactivity was rendered 
more galling or more endurable to the English monarch by 
the resolution of the council to engage in a truce of thirty 
days with the Sultan Saladin ; for, on the one hand, if he 
was incensed at the delay which this interposed to the prog- 
1 1. Chronicles xii. 17-19. 



THE TALISMAN 


63 


ress of the great enterprise, he was, on the other, somewhat 
consoled by kuowing that others were not acquiring laurels 
while he remained inactive upon a sick-bed. 

That, however, which Coeur-de-Lion could least excuse was 
the general inactivity which prevailed in the camp of the Cru¬ 
saders so soon as his illness assumed a serious aspect; and the 
reports which he extracted from his unwilling attendants gave 
him to understand that the hopes of the host had abated in 
proportion to his illness, and that the interval of truce was 
employed, not in recruiting their numbers, reanimating their 
courage, fostering their spirit of conquest, and preparing for 
a speedy and determined advance upon the Holy City, which 
was the object of their expedition, but in securing the camp 
occupied by their diminished followers with trenches, pali¬ 
sades, and other fortifications, as if preparing rather to repel 
an attack from a powerful enemy so soon as hostilities should 
recommence than to assume the proud character of conquerors 
and assailants. 

The English king chafed under these reports, like the im¬ 
prisoned lion viewing his prey from the iron barriers of his 
cage. Naturally rash and impetuous, the irritability of his 
temper preyed on itself. He was dreaded by his attendants, 
and even the medical assistants feared to assume the necessary 
authority which a physician, to do justice to his patient, must 
needs exercise over him. One faithful baron, who, perhaps from 
the congenial nature of his disposition, was devoutly attached 
to the King’s person, dared alone to come between the dragon 
and ‘his wrath, and quietly, but firmly, maintained a control 
which no other dared assume over the dangerous invalid, and 
which Thomas de Multon only exercised because he esteemed 
his sovereign’s life and honor more than he did the degree of 
favor which he might lose, or even the risk which he might 
incur, in nursing a patient so intractable, and whose displeasure 
was so perilous. 


64 


THE TALISMAN 


Sir Thomas was the Lord of Gilsland, in Cumberland, and, 
in an age when surnames and titles were not distinctly attached, 
as now, to the individuals who bore them, he was called by the 
Normans the Lord de Yaux, and in English, by the Saxons, who 
clung to their native language, and were proud of the share of 
Saxon blood in this renowned warrior’s veins, he was termed 
Thomas, or, more familiarly, Thom, of the Gills, or Narrow 
Valleys, from which his extensive domains derived their well- 
known appellation. 

This chief had been exercised in almost all the wars, whether 
waged betwixt* England and Scotland or amongst the various 
domestic factions which then tore the former country asunder, 
and in all had been distinguished as well from his military con¬ 
duct as his personal prowess. He was, in other respects, a rude 
soldier, blunt and careless in his bearing, and taciturn, nay, 
almost sullen, in his habits of society, and seeming, at least, to 
disclaim all knowledge of policy and of courtly art. There were 
men, however, who pretended to look deeply into character, who 
asserted that the Lord de Yaux was not less shrewd and aspiring 
than he was blunt and bold, and who thought that, while he 
assimilated himself to the King’s own character of blunt hardi¬ 
hood, it was, in some degree at least, with an eye to establish 
his favor, and to gratify his own hopes of deep-laid ambition. 
But no one cared to thwart his schemes, if such he had, by 
rivalling him in the dangerous occupation of daily attendance 
on the sick-bed of a patient whose disease was pronounced in¬ 
fectious, and more especially when it was remembered that the 
patient was Coeur-de-Lion, suffering under all the furious im¬ 
patience of a soldier withheld from battle, and a sovereign 
sequestered from authority; and the common soldiers, at least 
in the English army, were generally of opinion, that De Yaux 
attended on the King like comrade upon comrade, in the honest 
and disinterested frankness of military friendship, contracted 
between the partakers of daily dangers. 


THE TALISMAN 


65 


It was on the decline of a Syrian day that Richard lay on 
his couch of sickness, loathing it as much in mind as his illness 
made it irksome to his body. His bright blue eye, which at 
all times shone with uncommon keenness and splendor, had its 
vivacity augmented by fever and mental impatience, and glanced 
from among his curled and unshorn locks of yellow hair as fit¬ 
fully and as vividly as the last gleams of the sun shoot through 
the clouds of an approaching thunderstorm, which still, however, 
are gilded by its beams. His manly features showed the prog¬ 
ress of wasting illness, and his beard, neglected and untrimmed, 
had overgrown both lips and chin. Casting himself from side 
to side, now clutching towards him the coverings, which at the 
next moment he flung as impatiently from him, his tossed couch 
and impatient ge'stures showed at once the energy and the reck¬ 
less impatience of a disposition whose natural sphere was that 
of the most active exertion. 

Beside his couch stood Thomas de Yaux, in face, attitude, 
and manner the strongest possible contrast to the suffering 
monarch. His stature approached the gigantic, and his hair 
in thickness might have resembled that of Samson, though 
only after the Israelitish champion’s locks had passed under 
the shears of the Philistines , 1 for those of De Yaux were cut 
short, that they might be enclosed under his helmet. The light 
of his broad, large hazel eye resembled that of the autumn morn, 
and it was only perturbed for a moment, when, from time to 
time, it was attracted by Richard’s vehement marks of agitation 
and restlessness. His features, though massive like his person, 
might have been handsome before they were defaced with scars; 
his upper lip, after the fashion of the Normans, was covered 
with thick mustachios, which grew so long and luxuriantly as 
to mingle with his hair, and, like his hair, were dark brown, 
slightly brindled with gray. His frame seemed of that kind 
which most readily defies both toil and climate, for he was thin- 
1 Judges xvi. 4-19. 

F 


66 


THE TALISMAN 


flanked, broad-chested, long-armed, deep-breathed, and strong- 
limbed. 

The pavilion in which these personages were had, as became 
the time, as well as the personal character of Richard, more j 
of a warlike than a sumptuous or royal character. Weapons, 
offensive and defensive, several of them of strange and newly- 
invented construction, were scattered about the tented apart- ' 
ment, or disposed upon the pillars which supported it. Skins j 
of animals slain in the chase were stretched on the ground, or ; 
extended along the sides of the pavilion, and, upon a heap of | 
these silvan spoils, lay three alans , as they were then called j 
(wolf-greyhounds, that is), of the largest size, and as white as j 
snow. Their faces, marked with many a scar from clutch and : 
fang, showed their share in collecting the trophies upon which 
they reposed, and their eyes, fixed from time to time with an 
expressive stretch and yawn upon the bed of Richard, evinced 1 
how much they marvelled at and regretted the unwonted inac- j 
tivity which they were compelled to share. These were but the j 
accompaniments of the soldier and huntsman ; but, on a small I 
table close by the bed, was placed a shield of wrought steel, of ] 
triangular form, bearing the three lions passant, first assumed j 
by the chivalrous monarch, and before it the golden circlet, re- j 
sembling much a ducal coronet, only that it was higher in front j 
than behind, which, with the purple velvet and embroidered ; 
tiara that lined it, formed then the emblem of England’s sov- j 
ereignty. Beside it, as if prompt for defending the regal symbol, ! 
lay a mighty curtal axe, 1 which would have wearied the arm of I 
any other than Coeur-de-Lion. 

In an outer partition of the pavilion waited two or three j 
officers of the royal household, depressed, anxious for their mas- ] 
ter’s health, and not less so for their own safety, in case of his \ 
decease. Their gloomy apprehensions spread themselves to the \ 
warders without, who paced about in downcast and silent con-1 
1 Curtal axe: cutlass, a short, heavy, curving sword. 


THE TALISMAN 


67 


templation, or, resting on their halberds 1 stood motionless on 
their post, rather like armed trophies than living warriors. 

“ So thou hast no better news to bring me from without, Sir 
Thomas ? ” said the King, after a long and perturbed silence, 
spent in the feverish agitation which we have endeavored to 
describe. “ All our knights turned women, and our ladies be¬ 
come devotees, and neither a spark of valor nor of gallantry to 
enlighten a camp which contains the choicest of Europe’s chiv¬ 
alry — ha! ” 

“ The truce, my lord,” said De Vaux, with the same patience 
with which he had twenty times repeated the explanation — 
“ the truce prevents us bearing ourselves as men of action ; and, 
for the ladies, I am no great reveller, as is well known to your 
Majesty, and seldom exchange steel and buff for velvet and 
gold, but thus far I know, that our choicest beauties are wait¬ 
ing upon the Queen’s Majesty and the Princess to a pilgrimage 
to the convent of Engaddi, to accomplish their vows for your 
Highness’s deliverance from this trouble.” 

“ And is it thus,” said Richard, with the impatience of in¬ 
disposition, “that royal matrons and maidens should risk them¬ 
selves, where the dogs who defile the land have as little truth 
to man as they have faith towards God ? ” 

“ Kay, my lord,” said De Vaux, “ they have Saladin’s word 
for their safety.” 

“ True — true ! ” replied Richard, “ and I did the heathen 
soldan injustice ; I owe him reparation for it. Would God I 
were but fit to offer it him upon my body between the two 
hosts, Christendom and Heathenesse both looking on ! ” 

As Richard spoke, he thrust his right arm out of bed naked 
to the shoulder, and, painfully raising himself in his couch, 
shook his clenched hand, as if it grasped sword or battle-axe, 
and was then brandished over the jewelled turban of the soldan. 

1 Halberd: a weapon pointed like a spear and being also like an 

axe. 


68 


THE TALISMAN 


It was not without a gentle degree of violence, which the King 
would scarce have endured from another, that De Vaux, in his 
character of sick-nurse, compelled his royal master to replace 
himself in the couch, and covered his sinewy arm, neck, and 
shoulders with the care which a mother bestows upon an im¬ 
patient child. 

“ Thou art a rough nurse, though a willing one, De Vaux,” 
said the King, laughing with a bitter expression, while he sub¬ 
mitted to the strength which he was unable to resist; “me- 
thinks a coif 1 would become thy lowering features as well as a 
child’s biggin 2 would beseem mine. We should be a babe and 
nurse to frighten girls with ! ” 

“We have frightened men in our time, my liege,” said De 
Vaux ; “ and, I trust, may live to frighten them again. What is 
a fever-fit, that we should not endure it patiently, in order to 
get rid of it easily ? ” 

“ Fever-fit! ” exclaimed Richard, impetuously ; “thou mayst 
think, and justly, that it is a fever-fit with me; but what is 
it with all the other Christian princes — with Philip of France, 
with that dull Austrian, with him of Montserrat, with the 
Hospitallers, with the Templars — what is it with all them ? 
I will tell thee : it is a cold palsy — a'dead lethargy — a disease 
that deprives them of speech and action — a canker that has 
eaten into the heart of all that is noble, and chivalrous, and 
virtuous among them — that has made them false to the noblest 
vow ever knights were sworn to — has made them indifferent to 
their fame, and forgetful of their God ! ” 

“ For the love of Heaven, my liege,” said De Vaux, “ take it 
less violently! You will be heard without doors, where such 
speeches aie but too current already among the common soldiery, 
and engender discord and contention in the Christian host. Be¬ 
think you that your illness mars the mainspring of their enter- 

1 Coif: a small, close-fitting hood. 

2 Biggin: a child’s cap. 


THE TALISMAN 


G9 


prise: a mangonel 1 will work without screw and lever better 
than the Christian host without King Richard.” 

“Thou flatterest me, De Yaux,” said Richard ; and, not in¬ 
sensible to the power of praise, he reclined his head on the pil¬ 
low with a more deliberate attempt to repose than he had yet 
exhibited. “ Does a league of monarchs, an assemblage of nobles, 
a convocation of all the chivalry of Europe droop with the sick¬ 
ness of one man, though he chances to be King of England 1 
Why should Richard’s illness, or Richard’s death, check the 
march of thirty thousand men as brave as himself? When the 
master stag is struck down the herd do not disperse upon his 
fall; when the falcon strikes the leading crane, another takes 
the guidance of the phalanx. Why do not the powers assemble 
and choose some one to whom they may entrust the guidance of 
the host ? ” 

“Forsooth, and if it please your Majesty,” said De Yaux, 
“ I hear consultations have been held among the royal leaders 
for some such purpose.” 

“ Ha ! ” exclaimed Richard, his jealousy awakened, giving 
his mental irritation another direction. “ Am I forgot by my 
allies ere I have taken the last sacrament 1 Do they hold me 
dead already f But no — no, they are right. And whom do 
they select as leader of the Christian host ? ” 

“ Rank and dignity,” said De Yaux, “ point to the King of 
France.” 

“ Oh, ay,” answered the English monarch, “ Philip of France 
and Navarre, mouth-filling words these ! There is but one risk, 
that he might mistake the words En arriere 2 for En avant , 3 
and lead us back to Paris instead of marching to Jerusalem. 
His politic head has learned by this time that there is more 

1 Mangonel: a machine for throwing stones. A most interesting 
study might here be made of the instruments with which assaults were 
made upon fortified cities, as Acre, Jerusalem, etc. 

2 En arriere : backward. 8 En avant : forward. 


70 


THE TALISMAN 


to be gotten by oppressing his feudatories and pillaging his 
allies than fighting with the Turks for the Holy Sepulchre.” | 
“They might choose the Archduke of Austria,” said De 
Vaux. 

“ What! because he is big and burly like thyself, Thomas — 
nearly as thick-headed, but without thy indifference to danger 
and carelessness of offence? I tell thee that Austria has in 
all that mass of flesh no bolder animation than is afforded by 
the peevishness of a wasp and the courage of a wren. Out 
upon him ! he a leader of chivalry to deeds of glory ! ” 

“ There is the Grand Master of the Templars,” continued the 
baron, undaunted, skilful, brave in battle, and sage in council, 
having no separate kingdoms of his own to divert his exertions 
from the recovery of the Holy Land — what thinks your Majesty 
of the Master as a general leader of the Christian host ? ” J 
Ha, Beau-Seant! ” 1 answered the King. “ Oh, no excep¬ 
tion can be taken to Brother Giles Amaury: he understands 
the ordering of a battle, and the fighting in front when it 
begins. But, Sir Thomas, were it fair to take the Holy Land 
from the heathen Saladin, so full of all the virtues which may 
distinguish unchristened man, and give it to Giles Amaury, ; 
a worse pagan than himself, an idolater, a devil-worshipper a 
necromancer, who practises crimes the most dark and unnatural, 1 
in the vaults and secret places of abomination and darkness ? ” 
“The Grand Master of the Hospitallers of St. John of Jeru¬ 
salem is not tainted by fame either with heresy or magic ” said 
Thomas de Vaux. j 

“But is he not a sordid miser?” said Richard, hastily; “has 
he not been suspected — ay, more than suspected — of selling : 
to the infidels those advantages which they would never have 
won by fair force? Tush, man, better give the army to be j 
mane merchandise of by Venetian skippers and Lombardy j 
pedlers than trust it to the Grand Master of St. John.” 

1 Beau - Seant : the standard of the Knights Templars and their war-cry. i 


THE TALISMAN 


71 


“Well, then, I will venture but another guess,” said the 
I Baron de Vaux. “ What say you to the gallant Marquis of 
! Montserrat, so wise, so elegant, such a good man-at-arms ? ” 

“Wise! cunning, you would say,” replied Richard; “ele¬ 
gant in a lady’s chamber, if you will. Oh, ay, Conrade of 
Montserrat—who knows not the popinjay? 1 Politic and versa¬ 
tile, he will change you his purposes as often as the trimmings 
of his doublet, and you shall never be able to guess the hue of 
his inmost vestments from their outward colors. A man-at- 
arms ! ay, a fine figure on horseback, and can bear him well 
in the tilt-yard and at the barriers, when swords are blunted 
at point and edge, and spears are tipped with trenchers of 
wood instead of steel pikes. Wert thou not with me when I 
said to that same gay marquis, “ Here we be, three good Chris¬ 
tians, and on yonder plain there pricks a band of some three¬ 
score Saracens, what say you to charge them briskly? There 
are but twenty unbelieving miscreants to each true knight.” 

“I recollect the marquis replied,” said De Yaux, “that ‘His 
limbs were of flesh, not of iron, and that he would rather bear 
the heart of a man than of a beast, though that beast were the 
lion.’ But I see how it is : we shall end where we began, with¬ 
out hope of praying at the Sepulchre, 2 until Heaven shall restore 
King Richard to health.” 

At this grave remark, Richard burst out into a hearty fit 
of laughter, the first which he had for some time indulged in. 
“Why, what a thing is conscience,” he said, “that through its 
means even such a thick-witted northern lord as thou canst 
bring thy sovereign to confess his folly ! It is true that, did 
they not propose themselves as fit to hold my leading-staff, 

1 Popinjay: a trifling, chattering person. 

2 The Holy Sepulchre was the place where Jesus was buried, and its 
possession by the infidels was the cause of the Crusades. As the senti¬ 
nels of Richard’s army passed their rounds at night, they would, from 
time to time, call out, for the purpose of keeping up the courage of the 
soldiers, these words, “Remember the Holy Sepulchre.” 



72 


THE TALISMAN 


little should I care for plucking the silkeu trappings off the 
puppets thou hast shown me in succession. What concerns It 
me what fine tinsel robes they swagger in, unless when they 
are named as rivals in the glorious enterprise to which I have 
vowed myself? Yes, De Vaux, I confess my weakness, and 
the wilfulness of my ambition. The Christian camp contains, 
doubtless, many a better knight than Richard of England, and i 
it would be wise and worthy to assign to the best of them 
the leading of the host; but,” continued the warlike monarch, 
raising himself in his bed, and shaking the cover from his 
head, while his eyes sparkled as they were wont to do on the i 
eve of battle, “ were such a knight to plant the banner of the! 
Cross on the Temple of Jerusalem, while I was unable to bear i 
my share in the noble task, he should, so soon as I was fit to I 
lay lance in rest, undergo my challenge to mortal combat, for; 
haying diminished my fame, and pressed in before to the i 
object of my enterprise. But hark, what trumpets are those ! 
at a distance ? ” 

“ Those of King Philip, as I guess, my liege,” said the stout 
Englishman. 

“ Thou art dull of ear, Thomas,” said the King, endeavor¬ 
ing to start up, “hearest thou not that clash and clang? By 
Heaven, the Turks are in the camp. I hear their lelies” 1 
He again endeavored to get out of bed, and De Vaux was 
obliged to exercise his own great strength, and also to sum- j 
mon the assistance of the chamberlains from the inner tent, to 
restrain him. 

Thou art a false traitor, De Vaux,” said the incensed ! 
monarch, when, breathless and exhausted with struggling, he* 
was compelled to submit to superior strength, and to repose* 
m quiet on his couch. “ I would I were — I would I were but 
strong enough to dash thy brains out with my battle-axe ! ” 

“ 1 would y° u h a d the strength, my liege,” said De Vaux, 

1 Lelies : the Arab war-cry. 





THE TALISMAN 


73 


“ and would even take the risk of its being so employed. The 
odds would be great in favor of Christendom, were Thomas 
Multon dead and Coeur-de-Lion himself again.” 

“Mine honest, faithful servant,” said Richard, extending 
his hand, which the baron reverentially saluted, “forgive thy 
master’s impatience of mood. It is this burning fever which 
chides thee, and not thy kind master, Richard of England. 
But go, I prithee, and bring me word what strangers are in 
the camp, for these sounds are not of Christendom.” 

De Vaux left the pavilion on the errand assigned, and in 
his absence, which he had resolved should be brief, he 
charged the chamberlains, pages, and attendants to redouble 
their attention on their sovereign, with threats of holding 
them to responsibility, which rather added to than diminished 
their timid anxiety in the discharge of their duty; for next 
perhaps to the ire of the monarch himself, they dreaded that 
of the stern and inexorable Lord of Gilsland. 


CHAPTER YII 

There never was a time on the march parts yet 
When Scottish with English met, 

But it was marvel if the red blood ran not 
As the rain does in the street. 

Battle of Otterbourn. 

A considerable band of Scottish warriors had joined the 
Crusaders, and had naturally placed themselves under the com¬ 
mand of the English monarch, being, like his native troops, 
most of them of Saxon and Norman descent, speaking the 
same languages, possessed, some of them, of English as well 
as Scottish demesnes, 1 and allied, in some cases, by blood and 

1 Demesnes: the estates of a lord. 


74 


THE TALISMAN 


intermarriage. 1 The period also preceded that when the j 
grasping ambition of Edward I. gave a deadly and envenomed 
character to the wars betwixt the two nations; the English] 
fighting for the subjugation of Scotland, and the Scottish, 
with all the stern determination and obstinacy which has ever j 
characterized their nation, for the defence of their indepen- 'j 
dence, by the most violent means, under the most disadvan-|| 
tageous circumstances, and at the most extreme hazard. As 
yet, wars betwixt the two nations, though fierce and frequent,, 
had been conducted on principles of fair hostility, and ad-, 
mitted of those softening shades by which courtesy, and the 
respect for open and generous foemen, qualify and mitigate 
the horrors of war. In time of peace, therefore, and espe-t 
daily when both, as at present, were engaged in war, waged! 
in behalf of a common cause, and rendered dear to them by 
their ideas of religion, the adventurers of both countries ffe- j 
quently fought side by side, their national emulation serving 
only to stimulate them to excel each other in their efforts; 
against the common enemy. 

Of all the English nobles who had followed their king to 
Palestine, De Yaux was most prejudiced against the Scottish; 
they were his near neighbors, with whom he had been en¬ 
gaged during his whole life in private or public warfare, and 
on whom he had inflicted many calamities, while he had sus¬ 
tained at their hands not a few. 

Yet, though De Yaux entertained these sentiments of prejudice ; 
concerning his northern neighbors, and extended them, with little 
mitigation, even to such as had assumed the cross, his respect ] 

'' observe that for many centuries the continental wars 
or je offered inviting careers to the more adventurous spirits of 
all nations, especially of those which were poor. Scotland was such 
a country, but her people have ever been highly intelligent, aggressive, 
and courageous. The hero of one of Scott’s most interesting and power¬ 
ful tales, Quentin Durward , a character closely resembling Sir Kenneth 
and in the service of Louis XI. of France, will illustrate this spirit. 



THE TALISMAN 


75 


for the King, and a sense of the duty imposed by his vow as 
a Crusader, prevented him from displaying them otherwise 
than by regularly shunning all intercourse with his Scottish 
brethren-at-arms, as far as possible, by observing a sullen 
taciturnity when compelled to meet them occasionally, and by 
looking scornfully upon them when they encountered on the 
march and in camp. The Scottish barons and knights were 
not men to bear his scorn unobserved or unreplied to; and it 
came to that pass, that he was regarded as the determined and 
active enemy of a nation whom, after all, he only disliked, 
and in some sort despised. Nay, it was remarked by close ob¬ 
servers that, if he had not towards them the charity of Scrip¬ 
ture, which suffereth long and judges kindly, he was by no 
means deficient in the subordinate and limited virtue which 
alleviates and relieves the wants of others. The wealth of 
Thomas of Gilsland procured supplies of provisions and medi¬ 
cines, and some of these usually flowed by secret channels into 
the quarters of the Scottish; his surly benevolence proceeding 
on the principle that, next to a man’s friend, his foe was of 
most importance to him, passing over all the intermediate 
relations, as too indifferent to merit even a thought. This 
explanation is necessary, in order that the reader may fully 
understand what we are now to detail. 

Thomas de Yaux had not made many steps beyond the en¬ 
trance of the royal pavilion, when he was aware of what the 
far more acute ear of the English monarch, no mean proficient 
in the art of minstrelsy, had instantly discovered, that the 
musical strains, namely, which had reached their ears, were 
produced by the pipes, shalms, 1 and kettledrums of v 

cens; and at the bottom of an avenue of tents, wliiik* Yed 
a broad access to the pavilion of Richard, he could see a crowd 
of idle soldiers assembled around the spot from which the 
music was heard, almost in the centre of the camp • and he 
1 Slialms: a kind of clarinet. 


76 


THE TALISMAN 


saw, with great surprise, mingled amid the helmets of various 
forms worn by the Crusaders of different nations, w T hite tur¬ 
bans and long pikes, announcing the presence of armed Sara- 
cens, and the huge deformed, heads of several camels or 
dromedaries, overlooking the multitude by aid of their long, I 
disproportioned necks. 

Wondering and displeased at a sight so unexpected and 
singular — for it was customary to leave all flags of truce and 
other communications from the enemy at an appointed place j 
without the barriers — the baron looked eagerly round for some 
one of whom he might inquire the cause of this alarming »! 
novelty. 

The first person whom he met advancing to him, he set i 
down at once, by his grave and haughty step, as a Spaniard^ 
or a Scot; and presently after muttered to himself: “ And 
a Scot it is — he of the Leopard. I have seen him fight in¬ 
differently well, for one of his country.” 

Loth to ask even a passing question, he was about to pass 
Sir Kenneth, with that sullen and lowering port which seems 
to say, “ I know thee, but I will hold no communication with < 
thee”; but his purpose was defeated by the Northern knight, j 
who moved forward directly to him, and accosting him with 
formal courtesy, said, “My Lord de Yaux of Gilsland, I have 
in charge to speak with you.” 

“ Ha ! ” returned the English baron, “ with me ? But say your 
pleasure, so it be shortly spoken; I am on the King’s errand.”i 
Mine touches King Richard yet more nearly,” answered 
Sir Kenneth; “I bring him, I trust, health.” 

The Lord of Gilsland measured the Scot with incredulous: 
eyes, and replied, “ Thou art no leech, 1 I think, sir Scot; I 
had as soon thought of your bringing the King of England j 
wealth.” 

Sir Kenneth, though displeased with the manner of the, 

1 Leech : a physician. 




THE TALISMAN 


77 


| baron’s reply answered calmly: “ Health to Richard is glory 
j and wealth to Christendom. But my time presses; I pray 
you, may I see the King ? ” 

“Surely not, fair sir,” said the baron, “until your errand 
J be told more distinctly. The sick-chambers of princes open 
not to all who inquire, like a Northern hostelry.” 

“My lord,” said Kenneth, “the cross which I wear in com¬ 
mon with yourself, and the importance of what I have to tell, 
must, for the present, cause me to pass over a bearing which 
else I were unapt to endure. In plain language, then, I bring 
with me a Moorish physician, who undertakes to work a cure 
on King Richard.” 

“A Moorish physician!” said De Vaux; “and who will 
warrant that he brings not poisons instead of remedies ? ” 

“ His own life, my lord — his head, which he offers as a 
guarantee.” 

“I have known many a resolute ruffian,” said De Vaux, 
“ who valued his own life as little as it deserved, and would 
troop to the gallows as merrily as if the hangman were his 
partner in a dance.” 

“ But thus it is, my lord,” replied the Scot: “ Saladin, to 
whom none will deny the credit of a generous and valiant 
enemy, hath sent this leech hither with an honorable retinue 
and guard, befitting the high estimation in which El Hakim 1 
is held by the Soldan, and with fruits and refreshments for 
the King’s private chamber, and such message as may pass 
betwixt honorable enemies, praying him to be recovered of 
his fever, that he may be the fitter to receive a visit from the 
Soldan, with his naked scimitar in his hand, and an hundred 
thousand cavaliers at his back. Will it please you, who are 
of the King’s secret council, to cause these camels to be dis¬ 
charged of their burdens, and some order taken as to the 
reception of the learned physician ? ” 

i El Hakim means the physician. 




78 


THE TALISMAN 


“ Wonderful! ” said De Yaux, as speaking to himself. 
“And who will vouch for the honor of Saladin, in a case 
when bad faith would rid him at once of his most powerful 
adversary ? ” 

“ I myself,” replied Sir Kenneth, “ will be his guarantee ,\ 
with honor, life, and fortune.” 

“ Strange ! ” again ejaculated De Yaux : “ the North vouches 
for the South — the Scot for the Turk ! May I crave of you, * 
Sir Knight, how you became concerned in this affair ? ” 

“ I have been absent on a pilgrimage, in the course of 
which,” replied Sir Kenneth, “ I had a message to discharge 
towards the holy hermit of Engaddi.” 

“May I not be intrusted with it, Sir Kenneth, and with 
the answer of the holy man ? ” 

“It may not be, my lord,” answered the Scot. 

“I am of the secret council of England,” said the English¬ 
man, haughtily. 

“To which land I owe no allegiance,” said Kenneth. 
“Though I have voluntarily followed in this war the per¬ 
sonal fortunes of England’s sovereign, I was despatched by 
the general council of the kings, princes, and supreme leaders 
of the army of the Blessed Cross, and to them only I render 
my errand.” 

“ Ha ! say’st thou?” said the proud Baron de Yaux. “ But 
know, messenger of the kings and princes as thou mayst be, 
no leech shall approach the sick-bed of Richard of England 
without the consent of him of Gilsland; and they will come 
on evil errand who dare to intrude themselves against it.” 

“Well, then,” said the Scottish knight, “let me swear to you, 
Thomas of Gilsland, that as I am true Scottish man, which I 
hold a privilege equal to my ancient gentry, and as sure as I 
am a belted knight, and come hither to acquire fame in this 
mortal life, and forgiveness of my sins in that which is to come, 
so truly, and by the blessed cross which I wear, do I protest 



THE TALISMAN 


79 


unto you, that I desire but the safety of Richard Coeur-de-Lion, 
in recommending the ministry of this Moslem physician.” 

The Englishman was struck with the solemnity of the ob¬ 
testation, and answered with more cordiality than he had yet 
exhibited: “Tell me, Sir Knight of the Leopard, granting — 
which I do not doubt — that thou art thyself satisfied in this 
matter, shall I do well, in a land where the art of poisoning 
is as general as that of cooking, to bring this unknown physi¬ 
cian to practise with his drugs on a health so valuable to 
Christendom ? ” 

“My lord,” replied the Scot, “thus only can I reply, that 
my squire, the only one of my retinue whom war and disease 
had left in attendance on me, has been of late suffering dan¬ 
gerously under this same fever, which, in valiant King Rich¬ 
ard, has disabled the principal limb of our holy enterprise. 
This leech, this El Hakim, hath ministered remedies to him 
not two hours since, and already he hath fallen into a refresh¬ 
ing sleep. That he can cure the disorder, which has proved 
so fatal, I nothing doubt; that he hath the purpose to do it 
is, I think, warranted by his mission from the royal Soldan, 
who is true-hearted and loyal, so far as a blinded infidel may 
be called so; and, for his eventual success, the certainty of 
reward in case of succeeding, and punishment in case of vol¬ 
untary failure, may be a sufficient guarantee.” 

The Englishman listened with downcast looks, as one who 
doubted, yet was not unwilling to receive conviction. At 
length he looked up and said, “May I see your sick squire, 
fair sir ? ” 

The Scottish knight hesitated and colored, yet answered 
at last: “ Willingly, my Lord of Gilsland; but you must re¬ 
member, when you see my poor quarter, that the nobles and 
knights of Scotland feed not so high, sleep not so soft, and 
care not for the magnificence of lodgment which is proper to 
their southern neighbors. I am poorly lodged, my Lord of 


80 


THE TALISMAN 


G-ilsland,” he added, with a haughty emphasis on the word, 
while, with some unwillingness, he held the way to his tem-j 
porary place of abode. 

Whatever were the prejudices of De Vaux against the nation! 
of his new acquaintance, and though we undertake not to deny 
that some of these were excited by its proverbial poverty, he 
had too much nobleness of disposition to enjoy the mortifica¬ 
tion of a brave individual, thus compelled to make known] 
wants which his pride would gladly have concealed. 

“ Shame to the soldier of the Cross,” he said, “ who thinkJ 
of worldly splendor, or of luxurious accommodation, when press-* 
ing forward to the conquest of the Holy City. Fare as hard, 
as we may, we shall yet be better than the host of martyrs andj 
of saints, who, having trod these scenes before us, now hold! 
golden lamps and evergreen palms.” 

By this time they reached the place of the camp, where the 
Knight of the Leopard had assumed his abode. 

Appearances here did indeed promise no breach of the lawgi 
of mortification, to which the Crusaders, according to the 
opinion expressed by him of Gilsland, ought to subject them-' 
selves. A space of ground, large enough to accommodate 
perhaps thirty tents, according to the Crusaders’ rules of cas- 
trametation, 1 was partly vacant, because, in ostentation, the! 
knight had demanded ground to the extent of his original 
retinue, partly occupied by a few miserable huts, hastily con¬ 
structed of boughs and covered with palm leaves. These 
habitations seemed entirely deserted, and several of them were 
ruinous. The central hut, which represented the pavilion of 
the leader, was distinguished by his swallow-tailed pennon,! 
placed on the point of a spear, from which its long folds dropt 
motionless to the ground, as if sickening under the scorching 
rays of the Asiatic sun. But no pages or squires, not even) 
a solitary warder, was placed by the emblem of feudal power) 

1 Castrametation: the art of laying out a camp. 



THE TALISMAN 


81 


and knightly degrees. If its reputation defended it not from 
insult, it had no other guard. 

The interior of the hut was chiefly occupied by two beds. 

One was empty, but composed of collected leaves, and spread 
with an antelope’s hide. It seemed, from the articles of ar¬ 
mor laid beside it, and from a crucifix of silver, carefully and 
reverentially disposed at the head, to be the couch of the 
knight himself. The other contained the invalid, of whom 
Sir Kenneth had spoken — a strong-built and harsh-featured 
man, past, as his looks betokened, the middle age of life. 
His couch was trimmed more softly than his master’s, and it 
was plain that the more courtly garments of the latter, the 
loose robe, in which the knights showed themselves on pacific 
occasions, and the other little spare articles of dress and 
adornment, had been applied by Sir Kenneth to the accommo¬ 
dation of his sick domestic. Part of an antelope was suspended 
against one of the main props of the hut, nor was it difficult to 
know how it had been procured; for a large stag greyhound, 
nobler in size and appearance than those even which guarded 
King Richard’s sick-bed, lay eyeing the process of baking the 
cake. The sagacious animal, on their first entrance, uttered a 
stifled growl, which sounded from his deep chest like distant 
thunder. But he saw his master, and acknowledged his pres¬ 
ence by wagging his tail and couching his head, abstaining from 
more tumultuous or noisy greeting, as if his noble instinct had 
taught him the propriety of silence in a sick man’s chamber. 

Beside the couch sat on a cushion, also composed of skins, 
the Moorish physician of whom Sir Kenneth had spoken, cross- 
legged, after the Eastern fashion. The imperfect light showed 
little of him, save that the lower part of his face was covered 
with a long black beard, which descended over his breast; that 
he wore a high tolpach, a Tartar cap of the lamb’s-wool manu¬ 
factured at Astracan, bearing the same dusky color, and that 
his ample caftan, or Turkish robe, was also of a dark hue. 

G 


82 


THE TALISMAN 


Two piercing eyes, which gleamed with unusual lustre, were 
the only lineaments of his visage that could be discerned amid 
the darkness in which he was enveloped. The English lord 
stood silent with a sort of reverential awe; for, notwithstand¬ 
ing the roughness of his general bearing, a scene of distress and 
poverty, firmly endured without complaint or murmur, would 
at any time have claimed more reverence from Thomas de Vaux 
than would all the splendid formalities of a royal presence- 
chamber, unless that presence-chamber were King Richard’s 
own. Nothing was, for a time, heard but the heavy and regu¬ 
lar breathings of the invalid, who seemed in profound repose. 

“ He hath not slept for six nights before,” said Sir Kenneth, 
“as I am assured by the youth, his attendant.” 

“ Noble Scot,” said Thomas de Yaux, grasping the Scottish 
knight’s hand, with a pressure which had more of cordiality 
than he permitted his words to utter, “this gear must be 
amended. Your esquire is but too evil fed and looked to.” 

In the latter part of this speech he naturally raised his voice 
to its usual decided tone. The sick man was disturbed in his 
slumbers. 

e “My master,” he said, murmuring as in a dream— “noble 
Sir Kenneth, taste not, to you as to me, the waters of the 
Clyde cold and refreshing, after the brackish springs of Pal¬ 
estine ? ” 

“He dreams of his native land, and is happy in his slum¬ 
bers, whispered Sir Kenneth to De Yaux; but had scarce 
uttered the words, when the physician, arising from the place 
which he had taken near t>he couch of the sick, and laying the 
hand of the patient, whose pulse he had been carefully watch¬ 
ing? quietly upon the couch, came to the two knights, and 
taking them each by the arm, while he intimated to them to 
remain silent, led them to the front of the hut. 

In the name of Issa ben Mariam,” he said, “ whom we 
honor as you, though not with the same blinded superstition, 


THE TALISMAN 


83 


disturb not the effect of the blessed medicine of which he hath 
partaken. To awaken him now is death or deprivation of 
reason; but return at the hour when the muezzin 1 calls from 
the minaret 2 to evening prayer in the mosque, and, if left un¬ 
disturbed until then, I promise you, this same Frankish soldier 
shall be able, without prejudice to his health, to hold some brief 
converse w T ith you, on any matters on which either, and espe¬ 
cially his master, may have to question him.” 

The knights retreated before the authoritative commands 
of the leech, who seemed fully to comprehend the impor¬ 
tance of the Eastern proverb, that “the sick-chamber of the 
patient is the kingdom of the physician.” 

They paused, and remained standing together at the door of 
the hut, Sir Kenneth with the air of one who expected his visitor 
| to say farewell, and De Vaux as if he had something on his 
mind which prevented him from doing so. The hound, how- 
i ever, had pressed out of the tent after them, and now thrust 
: his long rough countenance into the hand of his master, as if 
modestly soliciting some mark of his kindness. He had no 
sooner received the notice which he desired, in the shape of 
a kind wmrd and slight caress, than, eager to acknowledge his 
gratitude and joy for his master’s return, he flew off at full 
speed, galloping in full career, and with outstretched tail, here 
and there, about and around, crossways and endlong, through 
the decayed huts and the esplanade we have described, but 
never transgressing those precincts which his sagacity knew 
were protected by his master’s pennon. After a few gambols 
of this kind, the dog, coming close up to his master, laid at 
once aside his frolicsome mood, relapsed into his usual gravity 
and slowness of gesture and deportment, and looked as it he 
were ashamed that anything should have moved him to depart 
so far out of his sober self-control. 

1 Muezzin: the Mohammedan who cries the hour of prayer. 

2 Minaret: the lofty, slender tower of a mosque. 





84 


THE TALISMAN 


Both knights looked on with pleasure ; for Sir Kenneth was 
justly proud of his noble hound, and the northern English 
baron was, of course, an admirer of the chase, and a judge of 
the animal’s merits. 

“ A right able dog,” he said; “ I think, fair sir, King Richard 
hath not an alan which may match him, if he be as stanch as 
he is swift. But let me pray you — speaking in all honor and 
kindness — have you not heard the proclamation, that no one, 
under the rank of earl, shall keep hunting-dogs within King. 
Richard’s camp, without the royal license, which, I think, Sir 
Kenneth, hath not been issued to you ? I speak as Master of I 
the Horse.” 

“And I answer as a free Scottish knight,” said Kenneth, ' 
sternly. “ For the present I follow the banner of England, j 
but I cannot remember that I have ever subjected myself to 
the forest laws of that kingdom, nor have I such respect for;! 
them as would incline me to do so. When the trumpet sounds! 
to arms, my foot is in the stirrup as soon as any; when it 
clangs for the charge, my lance has not yet been the last laid ( 
in the rest. But for my hours of liberty or of idleness, King j 
Richard has no title to bar my recreation.” 

“ Nevertheless,” said De Vaux, “ it is a folly to disobey the 
King’s ordinance; so, with your good leave, I, as having au¬ 
thority in that matter, will send you a protection for mv 
friend here.” 

“I thank you,” said the Scot, coldly; “but he knows my 
allotted quarters, and within these I can protect him myself. 
And yet,” he said, suddenly changing his manner, “this is but 
a cold return for a well-meant kindness. I thank you, my 
lord, most heartily. The King’s equerries, 1 or prickers, might« 
find Roswal at disadvantage, and do‘him some injury, which i 
I should not, perhaps, be slow in returning, and so ill might 
come of it. You have seen so much of my housekeeping, my 
1 Equerry: an officer in charge of the horses. 





THE TALISMAN 


85 


lord,” he added with a smile, “ that I need not shame to say 
that Roswai is our principal purveyor; and w T ell I hope our 
Lion Richard will not be like the lion in the minstrel fable, 
that went a-hunting and kept the whole booty to himself. I 
cannot think he would grudge a poor gentleman, who follows 
him faithfully, his hour of sport and his morsel of game, more 
especially when other food is hard enough to come by.” 

“ By my faith, you do the King no more than justice; and yet,” 
said the baron, “ there is something in these w T ords, ‘ vert ’ 1 and 
‘venison,’ that turns the very brains of our Norman princes.” 

“We have heard of late,” said the Scot, “by minstrels and 
pilgrims, that your outlawed yeomen have formed great bands 
in the shires of York and Nottingham, having at their head 
a most stout archer, called Robin Hood, 2 with his lieutenant, 
Little John. Methinks it were better that Richard relaxed 
1 his forest code in England than endeavor to enforce it in the 
Holy Land.” 

“ Wild work, Sir Kenneth,” replied De Vaux, shrugging his 
i shoulders, as one who would avoid a perilous or unpleasing 
! topic — “a mad world, sir. I must now bid you adieu, having 
presently to return to the King’s pavilion. At vespers, I will 
again, with your leave, visit your quarters, and speak with 
this same infidel physician. I would, in the meantime, were 
it no offence, willingly send you what would somewhat mend 
your cheer.” 

“I thank you, sir,” said Sir Kenneth, “but it needs not: 

1 Vert: a game forest. 

2 Robin Hood seems to have been a real character, and with his boon 
companions of Sherwood Forest was looked upon by the common 
people of England as an administrator for them of a justice they could 
not obtain elsewhere. The whole story of these outlaws with their rude 
games, so splendidly portrayed in Ivanhoe, is but an expression of times 
practically lawless so far as human rights were concerned. The teacher 
in addition to further study of these times in the pages of Scott, will do 
well to read Maid Marian by Thomas Peacock, and Tennyson’s delight¬ 
ful drama, The Foresters. 




86 


THE TALISMAN 


Roswal hath already stocked my larder for two weeks, since 
the sun of Palestine, if it brings diseases, serves also to dry 
venison.” 

The two warriors parted much better friends than they had 
met; but ere they separated, Thomas de Yaux informed him¬ 
self at more length of the circumstances attending the mission 
of the Eastern physician, and received from the Scottish 
knight the credentials which he had brought to King Richard < 
on the part of Saladin. 

CHAPTER VIII 

SI 

A wise physician, skill’d our wounds to heal, 

Is more than armies to the common weal. 

Pope’s Iliad . 

• 

“ This is a strange tale, Sir Thomas,” said the sick mon- I 
arch, when he had heard the report of the trusty Baron of \ 
Gilsland; “ art thou sure this Scottish man is a tall man and 
true ? ” 

“1 cannot say, my lord,” replied the jealous Borderer: “ I 
live a little too near the Scots to gather much truth among 
them, having found them ever fair and false. But this man’s ; 
bearing is that of a true man, were he a devil as well as a 
Scot; that I must needs say for him in conscience.” 

“ And for his carriage as a knight, how say’st thou, De 
Yaux?” demanded the King. 

“It is your Majesty’s business more than mine to note 
men’s bearings; and I warrant you have noted the manner in! 
which this man of the Leopard hath borne himself. He hath 
been full well spoken of.” 

“And justly, Thomas,” said the King. “We have our¬ 
selves witnessed him. It is indeed our purpose, in placing! 
ourselves ever in the front of battle, to see how our liegemen 





THE TALISMAN 


87 


and followers acquit themselves, and not from a desire to ac¬ 
cumulate vainglory to ourselves, as some have supposed. We 
know the vanity of the praise of man, which is but a vapor, 
and buckle on our armor for other purposes than to win it.” 

De Vaux was alarmed when he heard the King make a dec¬ 
laration so inconsistent with his nature, and believed at first 
that nothing short of the approach of death could have brought 
him to speak in depreciating terms of military renown, which 
was the very breath of his nostrils. But, recollecting he had 
met the royal confessor in the outer pavilion, he was shrewd 
enough to place this temporary self-abasement to the effect of 
the reverend man’s lesson, and suffered the King to proceed 
without reply. 

“Yes,” continued Richard, “I have indeed marked the 
manner in which this knight does his devoir. My leading- 
staff were not worth a fool’s bauble, had he escaped my notice; 
and he had ere now tasted of our bounty, but that I have also 
marked his overweening and audacious presumption.” 

“My liege,” said the Baron of G-ilsland, observing the King’s 
countenance change, “ I fear I have transgressed your pleasure 
in lending some countenance to his transgression.” 

“ How, De Multon, thou ? ” said the King, contracting his 
brows and speaking in a tone of angry surprise— “thou coun¬ 
tenance his insolence ? It cannot be.” 

“ Kay, your Majesty will pardon me to remind you that I 
have by mine office right to grant liberty to men of gentle blood 
to keep them a hound or two within camp, just to cherish the 
noble art of venerie, 1 and besides, it were a sin to have maimed 
or harmed a thing so noble as this gentleman’s dog.” 

“ Has he then a dog so handsome ? ” said the King. 

“A most perfect creature of Heaven,” said the baron, who 
was an enthusiast in field-sports, “of the noblest Northern 
breed — deep in the chest, strong in the stern, black color, and 
1 Venerie: hunting. 


88 


THE TALISMAN 


brindled on the breast and legs — not spotted with white, but 
just shaded into gray — strength to pull down a bull, swiftness 
to cote 1 an antelope.” 

The King laughed at his enthusiasm. “ But to this piece of 
learned heathenesse — say’st thou the Scot met him in the 
desert 1 ” 

“No, my liege, the Scot’s tale runs thus: He was de¬ 
spatched to the old hermit of Engaddi, of whom men talk so 
much-” 

“ ’Sdeath and hell! ” said Richard, starting up. “ By whom 
despatched, and for what ? Who dared send any one thither 
when our Queen was in the convent of Engaddi, upon her 
pilgrimage for our recovery ? ” 

“ The council of the Crusade sent him, my lord,” answered 
the Baron de Vaux; “for what purpose, he declined to ac¬ 
count to me. I think it is scarce known in the camp that 
your royal consort is on a pilgrimage, and even the princes 
may not have been aware, as the Queen has been sequestered 
from company since your love prohibited her attendance in 
case of infection.” 

“ Well, it shall be looked into,” said Richard. “ So this 
Scottish man, this envoy, met with a wandering physician at 
the grotto of Engaddi — ha ? ” 

“ Not so, my liege,” replied De Vaux ; “but he met, I think, 
near that place with a Saracen emir with whom he had some 
meMe in the way of proof of valor, and finding him worthy 
to bear brave men company, they went together, as errant 
knights are wont, to the grotto of Engaddi.” 

Here De Vaux stopped, for he was not one of those who can 
tell a long story in a sentence. 

“ And did they there meet the physician ? ” demanded the 
King, impatiently. 

“No, my liege,” replied De Vaux; “but the Saracen, learn- 
1 Cote : outrun. 


THE TALISMAN 


89 


ing your Majesty’s grievous illness, undertook that Saladin 
should send his own physician to you, and with many assur¬ 
ances of his eminent skill; and he came to the grotto accord- 
ingtyj &fter the Scottish knight had tarried a day for him and 
more. He is attended as if he were a prince, with drums 
and atabals, and servants on horse and foot, and brings with 
him letters of credence from Saladin.” 

Richard took a scroll, in which were inscribed these words : 
“ The blessing of Allah and his Prophet Mohammed — (“ Out 
upon the hound ! ” said Richard, spitting in contempt, by way 
of interjection) — Saladin, king of kings, soldan of Egypt and 
of Syria, the light and refuge of the earth, to the great Melech 
Ric Richard of England — greeting. Whereas we have been 
informed that the hand of sickness hath been heavy upon 
thee, our royal brother, and that thou hast with thee only 
such Narazene and Jewish mediciners as work without the 
blessing of Allah and our holy Prophet — (“ Confusion on his 
head ! ” again muttered the English monarch) — we have there¬ 
fore sent to tend and wait upon thee at this time the physician 
to our own person, Adonbec el Hakim, before whose face the 
angel Azrael 1 spreads his wings and departs from the sick- 
chamber ; who knows the virtues of herbs and stones, the path 
of the sun, moon, and stars, and can save man from all that 
is not written on his forehead. And this we do, praying you 
heartily to honor and make use of his skill, not only that we 
may do service to thy worth and valor, which is the glory of 
all the nations of Frangistan , 2 but that we may bring the 
controversy which is at present between us to an end, either 
by honorable agreement or by open trial thereof with our 
weapons in a fair field; seeing that it neither becomes thy 
place and courage to die the death of a slave who hath been 
overwrought by his taskmaster, nor befits it our fame that a 

1 Azrael: the Angel of Death. 

2 Frangistan: Europe. 


90 


THE TALISMAN 


brave adversary be snatched from our weapon by such a dis¬ 
ease. And, therefore, may the holy-” 

“ Hold — hold,” said Richard, “I will have no more of his 
dog of a Prophet! It makes me sick to think the valiant 
and worthy Soldan should believe in a dead dog. Yes, I will 
see his physician. I will put myself into the charge of this 
Hakim. I will repay the noble Soldan his generosity. I will 
meet Saladin in the field, as he so worthily proposes, and he 
shall have no cause to term Richard of England ungrateful. 
I will strike him to the earth with my battle-axe. I will 
convert him to Holy Church with such blows as he has 
rarely endured. He shall recant his errors before my good 
cross-handled sword, and I will have him baptized in the 
battle-field, from my own helmet, though the cleansing waters 
were mixed with the blood of us both. Haste, De Yaux, why 
dost thou delay a conclusion so pleasing? Fetch the Hakim 
hither.” 

“My lord,” said the baron, who perhaps saw some accession 
of fever in this overflow of confidence, “ bethink you, the Soldan 
is a pagan, and that you are his most formidable enemy-” 

“ For which reason he is the more bound to do me service 
in this matter, lest a paltry fever end the quarrel betwixt two 
such kings. I tell thee, he loves me as I love him — as noble 
adversaries ever love each other; by my honor, it were sin to 
doubt his good faith.” 

“Nevertheless, my lord, it were well to wait the issue of 
these medicines upon the Scottish squire,” said the Lord of 
Gilsland; “my own life depends upon it, for worthy were I to 
die like a dog, did I proceed rashly in this matter, and make 
shipwreck of the weal of Christendom.” 

“ I never knew thee before hesitate for fear of life,” said 
Richard, upbraidingly. 

“ Nor would I now, my liege,” replied the stout-hearted 
baron, “ save that yours lies at pledge as well as my own.” 




THE TALISMAN 


91 


“Well, thou suspicious mortal,” answered Richard, “begone 
then, and watch the progress of this remedy. I could almost 
wish it might either cure or kill me, for I am weary of lying 
here like an ox dying of the murrain, when tambours are beat¬ 
ing, horses stamping, and trumpets sounding without.” 

The Lord of Gilsland, burdened with the sense of responsibility 
in connection with the King’s illness, seeks the Archbishop of Tyre, 
with whom he consults as to the wisdom of employing the Arab 
physician, and together they wend their way to the tent of the 
Scotch knight, at the appointed hour, to see if the promise of the 
physician was fulfilled. They find him in close attendance upon 
the sick squire, converse with him as to his art, witness his opera¬ 
tions, especially when he draws “ forth a small silken bag made of 
network, twisted with silver,” and immersing it in a cup of some 
kind of liquid, gives the cup to the sick man to drink, clearly com¬ 
pleting the cure promised to the entire satisfaction of the visitors, 
who no longer scruple about admitting El Hakim to the King. 

Meanwhile Richard, weary of the delay of the baron, summons 
to his bedside Sir Kenneth, from whom he learns that his mission 
to the hermit at Engaddi was by the direction of the council of 
princes, to ascertain under what terms the Crusade might be aban¬ 
doned, in case of the death of Richard. At the same time he elicits 
the fact that Sir Kenneth had recognized his ward, Edith Plan- 
tagenet, and notes a growing attachment, deemed by him entirely 
inconsistent with their respective positions. At this juncture the 
Grand Master of the Templars with the Marquis of Montserrat being 
announced, the Scotch knight retires. 


CHAPTER IX 
This is the prince of leeches. 

The celebrated Master of the Templars was a tall, thin, 
war-worn man, with a slow yet penetrating eye, and a brow 
on which a thousand dark intrigues had stamped a portion of 
their obscurity. At the head of that singular body, to whom 



92 


THE TALISMAN 


their order was everything and their individuality nothing ; 
seeking the advancement of its power, even at the hazard of 
that very religion which the fraternity were originally associ¬ 
ated to protect; accused of heresy and witchcraft, although by 
their character Christian priests ; suspected of secret league with 
the Soldan, though by oath devoted to the protection of the 
Holy Temple or its recovery — the whole order, and the whole 
personal character of its commander, or Grand Master, was a 
riddle, at the exposition of which most men shuddered. The 
Grand Master was dressed in his white robes of solemnity, and 
he bare the abacus, a mystic staff of office, the peculiar form 
of which has given rise to such singular conjectures and com¬ 
mentaries, leading to suspicions that this celebrated fraternity 
of Christian knights were embodied under the foulest symbols 
of paganism. 

Conrade of Montserrat had a much more pleasing exterior 
than the dark and mysterious priest-soldier by whom he was 
accompanied. He was a handsome man, of middle age, or 
something past that term, bold in the field, sagacious in coun¬ 
cil, gay and gallant in times of festivity; but, on the other 
hand, he was generally accused of versatility, of a narrow and 
selfish ambition, of a desire to extend his own principality, 
without regard to the weal of the Latin kingdom of Palestine/ 
and of seeking his own interest, by private negotiations with 
Saladin, to the prejudice of the Christian leaguers. 

When the usual salutations had been made by these digni¬ 
taries, and courteously returned by King Richard, the Marquis 
of Montserrat commenced an explanation of the motives of « 
their visit, sent, as he said they were, by the anxious kings 
and princes who composed the council of the Crusaders, “ to 
inquire into the health of their magnanimous ally, the valiant 
King of England.” 

1 The kingdom set up by the Crusaders upon the capture of Jerusalem 
and other portions of Palestine. 


THE TALISMAN 


93 


“ We know the importance in which the princes of the coun¬ 
cil hold our health,” replied the English king; “and are well 
aware how much they must have suffered by suppressing all 
curiosity concerning it for fourteen days, for fear, doubtless, 
of aggravating our disorder, by showing their anxiety regard¬ 
ing the event.” 

The flow of the Marquis’s eloquence being checked, and he 
himself thrown into some confusion by this reply, his more 
austere companion took up the thread of the conversation, 
and, with as much dry and brief gravity as was consistent 
with the presence which he addressed, informed the King that 
they came from the council, to pray, in the name of Christen¬ 
dom, “ that he would not suffer his health to be tampered with 
by an infidel physician, said to be despatched by Saladin, until 
the council had taken measures to remove or confirm the sus¬ 
picion which they at present conceived did attach itself to the 
mission of such a person.” 

“ Grand Master of the Holy and Valiant Order of Knights 
Templars, and you, Most Noble Marquis of Montserrat,” re¬ 
plied Richard, “ if it please you to retire into the adjoining 
pavilion, you shall presently see what account we make of the 
tender remonstrances of our royal and princely colleagues in 
this religious warfare.” 

The Marquis and Grand Master retired accordingly; nor 
had they been many minutes in the outward pavilion when the 
Eastern physician arrived, accompanied by the Baron of Gils- 
land and Kenneth of Scotland. The baron, however, was a 
little later of entering the tent than the other two, stopping, 
perchance, to issue some orders to the warders without. 

As the Arabian physician entered, he made his obeisance, 
after the Oriental fashion, to the Marquis and Grand Master, 
whose dignity was apparent, both from their appearance and 
their bearing. The Grand Master returned the salutation 
with an expression of disdainful coldness, the Marquis with 


94 


THE TALISMAN 


the popular courtesy which he habitually practised to men of 
every rank and nation. There was a pause; for the Scottish 
knight, waiting for the arrival of De Vaux, presumed not, of 
his own authority, to enter the tent of the King of England, 
and, during this interval, the Grand Master sternly demanded 
of the Moslem: “Infidel, hast thou the courage to practise 
thine art upon the person of au anointed sovereign of the 
Christian host ? ” 

“ The sun of Allah,” answered the sage, “ shines on the 
Nazarene as well as on the true believer, and His servant dare 
make no distinction betwixt them, when called on to exercise 
the art of healing.” 

“Misbelieving Hakim,” said the Grand Master, “or what¬ 
soever they call thee for an unbaptized slave of darkness, dost 
thou well know that thou shalt be torn asunder by wild horses 
should King Richard die under thy charge ? ” 

“ That were hard justice,” answered the physician, “ seeing 
that I can but use human means, and that the issue is written 
in the book of light.” 

“ Nay, reverend and valiant Grand Master,” said the Mar¬ 
quis of Montserrat, “ consider that this learned man is not ac¬ 
quainted with our Christian order, adopted in the fear of God, 
and for the safety of His anointed. Be it known to thee, grave 
physician, whose skill we doubt not, that your wisest course 
is to repair to the presence of the illustrious council of our 
Holy League, and there to give account and reckoning to such 
wise and learned leeches as they shall nominate, concerning 
your means of process and cure of this illustrious patient; so 
shall you escape all the danger, which, rashly taking such a 
high matter upon your sole answer, you may else most likely 
incur.” 

“My lord,” said El Hakim, “I understand you well. But 
knowledge hath its champions as well as your military art, 
uay, hath sometimes had its martyrs as well as religion. I 


THE TALISMAN 


95 


have the command of my sovereign, the Soldan Saladin, to heal 
this Nazarene king, and, with the blessing of the Prophet, 
I will obey his commands. If I fail, ye wear swords thirsting 
for the blood of the faithful, and I proffer my body to your 
weapons. But I will not reason with one uncircumcised upon 
the virtue of the medicines of which I have obtained knowledge 
through the grace of the Prophet, and I pray you interpose 
no delay between me and my office.” 

“ Who talks of delay! ” said the Baron de Yaux, hastily 
entering the tent; “ we have had but too much already. I 
salute you, my Lord of Montserrat, and you, valiant Grand 
Master. But I must presently pass with this learned physi¬ 
cian to the bedside of my master.” 

“ My lord,” said the Marquis, “ are you well advised that we 
came to expostulate, on the part of the council of the monarchs 
and princes of the Crusade, against the risk of permitting an 
infidel and Eastern physician to tamper with a health so valu¬ 
able as that of your master King Richard h ” 

“Noble Lord Marquis,” replied the Englishman, bluntly, “I 
can neither use many words nor do I delight in listening to them; 
moreover, I am much more ready to believe what my eyes have 
seen than what my ears have heard. I am satisfied that this 
heathen can cure the sickness of King Richard, and I believe 
and trust he will labor to do so. Time is precious. If Mo¬ 
hammed — may God’s curse he on him ! — stood at the door 
of the tents, with such fair purpose as this Adonbec el Hakim 
entertains, I would hold it sin to delay him for a minute. So, 
give ye gode’n , 1 my lords.” 

“Nay, but,” said Conrade of Montserrat, “the King himself 
said we should be present when this same physician dealt upon 
him.” 

The baron whispered the chamberlain, probably to know 
whether the Marquis spoke truly, and then replied : “My lords, 
i Gode’u: good evening. 


96 


THE TALISMAN 


if you will hold your patience, you are welcome to enter with 
us; but if you interrupt, by action or threat, this accomplished 
physician in his duty, be it known that, without respect to your 
high quality, I will enforce your absence from Richard’s tent. 
Move onward, El Hakim.” 

The Grand Master looked grimly on the unceremonious old 
soldier, but, on exchanging a glance with the Marquis, smoothed 
his frowning brow as well as he could, and both followed De 
Yaux and the Arabian into the inner tent, where Richard lay 
expecting them with that impatience with which the sick man 
watches the step of his physician. Sir Kenneth, whose attend¬ 
ance seemed neither asked nor prohibited, felt himself, by the 
circumstances in which he stood, entitled to follow these high | 
dignitaries, but, conscious of his inferior power and rank, re¬ 
mained aloof during the scene which took place. 

Richard, when they entered his apartment, immediately ex¬ 
claimed : “ So ho! a goodly fellowship come to see Richard take 
his leap in the dark. My noble allies, I greet you as the rep¬ 
resentatives of our assembled league; Richard will again be 
amongst you in his former fashion, or ye shall bear to the grave 
what is left of him. De Vaux, lives he or dies he, thou hast 
the thanks of thy prince. There is yet another — but this 
fever hath wasted my eyesight. What, the bold Scot, who 
would climb Heaven without a ladder ? He is welcome too. 
Come, Sir Hakim, to the work — to the work.” 

The physician, wdio had already informed himself of the 
various symptoms of the King’s illness, now felt his pulse for 
a long time, and with deep attention, while all around stood 
silent and in breathless expectation. The sage next filled a cup 
with spring water, and dipt into it the small red purse , 1 which, 
as formerly, he took from his bosom. When he seemed to 
think it sufficiently medicated, he was about to offer it to the 
sovereign, who prevented him, by saying : “ Hold an instant. 

1 The talisman. 


THE TALISMAN 


97 


i Thou hast felt my pulse, let me lay my finger on thine. I too, 
| as becomes a good knight, know something of thine art.” 

•) The Arabian yielded his hand without hesitation, and his 
[long slender dark fingers were, for an instant, inclosed, and al¬ 
most buried, in the large enfoldment of King Richard’s hand. 

“ His blood beats calm as an infant’s,” said the King; “ so 
throb not theirs who poison princes. De Vaux, whether we 
| live or die, dismiss this Hakim with honor and safety. Com- 
| mend us, friend, to the noble Saladin. Should I die, it is with- 
I out doubt of his faith ; should I live, it will be to thank him as 
a warrior would desire to be thanked.” 

He then raised himself in bed, took the cup in his hand, and, 
turning to the Marquis and the Grand Master: “ Mark what 
I say, and let my royal brethren pledge me in Cyprus wine — 
‘ To the immortal honor of the first Crusader who shall strike 
lance or sword on the gate of Jerusalem ; and to the shame and 
eternal infamy of whomsoever shall turn back from the plough 
on which he hath laid his hand ! ’ ” 

He drained the cup to the bottom, resigned it to the Arabian, 
and sunk back, as if exhausted, upon the cushions which were 
arranged to receive him. The physician, then, with silent but 
expressive signs, directed that all should leave the tent except¬ 
ing himself and De Vaux, whom no remonstrance could induce 
to withdraw. The apartment was cleared accordingly. 


CHAPTER X 

. (Abridgment) 

The Grand Master and the Marquis upon retiring from Richard’s 
tent, engage in a dark conspiracy against the King. While at 
heart mutually distrustful, both feel that their personal interests 
and positions, if not imperilled, are, at least, not advanced by the 
presence in Palestine of the allied forces. The Grand Master, 
dark, cold, and remorseless, is one to whom nothing is sacred if it 


H 


98 


THE TALISMAN 




comes between him and his designs. The Marquis, equally selfish 
but less courageous, and given over to the gratification of his 
passions, is unwilling to proceed to the extreme length hinted at by' 
the Grand Master. Their conversation bears upon the conditions! 
of the times as they see them, and the antagonisms clearly pre¬ 
vailing amongst the leaders. 

Conrade determines, as the first measure, to repair to the tent 
of the Austrian duke, Leopold, play upon his vanity, and his envy I 
of Richard, and the latter’s clear preeminence, and so inflame him i 
to plant his standard by the side of the banner of England, which 
has, heretofore, as a sign of Richard’s general leadership, floated ■ 
alone upon the summit of an artificial mound, situated in the 
midst of the allied forces. The Austrian grand duke is represented ‘ 
as somewhat weak and vain rather than ambitious and tyrannical. I 
He had joined the Crusade with the desire of enjoying Richard’s j 
friendship and cultivating his regard. The marked natural differ- ; 
ence of temperament and taste separating them were increased by 
Richard’s tactlessness and made possible the accomplishment of 
Conrade’s designs, which aroused much commotion, with effect such 
as may be seen in the following pages. 


CHAPTER XI 

One thing is certain in our Northern land, 

Allow that birth or valor, wealth or wit, 

Give each precedence to their possessor, 

Envy, that follows on such eminence, 

As comes the lyme-hound on the roebuck’s trace 
Shall pull them down each one. 

Sir David Lindsay. 

The critical hour had arrived at which the physician, accord¬ 
ing to the rules of his art, had predicted that his royal patient 
might be awakened with safety, and the sponge had been 
applied for that purpose; and the leech had not made many 
observations ere he assured the Baron of Gilsland that the fever 
had entirely left his sovereign, and that, such was the happy 
strength of his constitution, it would not be even necessary, as 



THE TALISMAN 


99 


in most cases, to give a second dose of the powerful medicine. 
Richard himself seemed to be of the same opinion, for, sitting 
up and rubbing his eyes, he demanded of De Vaux what present 
sum of money was in the royal coffers. 

The baron could not exactly inform him of the amount. 

“ It matters not,” said Richard ; “ be it greater or smaller, 
bestow it all on this learned leech, who hath, I trust, given me 
back again to the service of the Crusade. If it be less than a 
thousand byzants , 1 let him have jewels to make it up.” 

“ I sell not the wisdom with which Allah has endowed me,” 
answered the Arabian physician; “ and be it known to you, 
i great prince, that the divine medicine of which you have par¬ 
taken would lose its effects in my unworthy hands, did I ex¬ 
change its virtues either for gold or diamonds.” 

“ The physician refuseth a gratuity ! ” said De Vaux to him- 
: self. “ This is more extraordinary than his being an hundred 
years old.” 

“ Thomas de Vaux,” said Richard, “ thou knowest no cour¬ 
age but what belongs to the sword, no bounty and virtue but 
what are used in chivalry; I tell thee that this Moor, in his 
independence, might set an example to them who account 
themselves the flower of knighthood.” 

“ It is reward enough for me,” said the Moor, folding his 
arms on his bosom, and maintaining an attitude at once re¬ 
spectful and dignified, “that so great a king as the Melech 
Ric 2 should thus speak of his servant. But now, let me pray 
you again to compose yourself on your couch; for though I 
think there needs no farther repetition of the divine draught, yet 
injury might ensue from any too early exertion, ere your 
strength be entirely restored.” 

“I must obey thee, Hakim,” said the King; “yet, believe 
me, my bosom feels so free from the wasting fire which for so 

1 Byzant: a gold coin in wide use, worth from $2.50 to $5.00. 

2 Richard’s name among Eastern nations. 



LofC. 



100 


THE TALISMAN 


many days hath scorched it that I care not how soon I expose 
it to a brave man’s lance. But hark ! what mean these shouts 
and that distant music in the camp ? Go, Thomas de Vaux,! 
and make inquiry.” 

“It is the Archduke Leopold,” said De Yaux, returning! 
after a minute’s absence, “ who makes with his pot-companions' 
some procession through the camp.” 

“The drunken fool! ” exclaimed King Richard, “ can he not 
keep his brutal inebriety within the veil of his pavilion, that 
he must needs show his shame to all Christendom ? What say ! 
you, Sir Marquis ? ” he added, addressing himself to Conrade 
of Montserrat, who at that moment entered the tent. 

“Thus much, honored prince,” answered the Marquis,! 
“that I delight to see your Majesty so well and so far recov-^ 
ered ; and that is a long speech for any one to make who has! 
partaken of the Duke of Austria’s hospitality.” 

“What! you have been dining with the Teutonic wine¬ 
skin,” said the monarch ; “and what frolic has he found out! 
to cause all this disturbance? Truly, Sir Conrade, I have 
still held you so good a reveller, that I wonder at your quitting! 
the game.” 

De Yaux, who had got a little behind the King, now exertedl 
himself, by look and sign, to make the Marquis understand ' 
that he should say nothing to Richard of what was passing} 
without. 

But Conrade understood not, or heeded not, the prohibition. I 
What the Archduke does,” he said, “ is of little consequence 1 ! 
to any one, least of all to himself, since he probably knows} 
not what he is acting; yet, to say truth, it is a gambol I should 1 
not like to share in, since he is pulling down the banner of 5 
England from St. George’s Mount in the centre of the camp 
yonder, and displaying his own in its stead.” 

What sayst thou?” exclaimed the King, in a tone which 1 
might have waked the dead. 




THE TALISMAN 


101 


“Nay,” saicl the Marquis, “let it not chafe your Highness 
that a fool should act according to his folly-” 

“ Speak not to me,” said Richard, springing from his couch, 
and casting on his clothes with a despatch which seemed mar¬ 
vellous — “ speak not to me, Lord Marquis! De Multon, I 
command thee speak not a word to me: he that breathes but 
a syllable is no friend to Richard Plantagenet. Hakim, be 
silent, I charge thee ! ” 

All this while the King was hastily clothing himself, and, 
with the last word, snatched his sword from the pillar of the 
tent, and without any other weapon, or calling any attendance, 
he rushed out of his pavilion. Conrade, holding up his hands, 
as if in astonishment, seemed willing to enter into conversa¬ 
tion with De Vaux, but Sir Thomas pushed rudely past him, 

! and calling to one of the royal equerries, said hastily: “ Fly to 
Lord Salisbury’s quarters, and let him get his men together, 
and follow me instantly to St. George’s Mount. Tell him the 
King’s fever has left his blood and settled in his brain. 

Imperfectly heard, and still more imperfectly comprehended, 

, by the startled attendant whom De Vaux addressed thus has¬ 
tily, the equerry and his fellow-servants of the royal chamber 
rushed hastily into the tents of the neighboring nobility, and 
quickly spread an alarm, as general as the cause seemed vague, 
through the whole British forces. The English soldiers, 
waked in alarm from that noon-day rest which the heat of the 
climate had taught them to enjoy as a luxury, hastily asked 
each other the cause of the tumult, and, without waiting an 
answer, supplied by the force of their own fancy the want of 
information. Some said the Saracens were in the camp, some 
that the King’s life was attempted, some that he had died of 
the fever the preceding night, many that he was assassinated 
by the Duke of Austria. The nobles and officers, at an equal 
loss with the common men to ascertain the real cause of the 
disorder, labored only to get their followers under arms and 




102 


THE TALISMAN 


under authority, lest their rashness shou]d occasion some 
great misfortune to the Crusading army. The English trump¬ 
ets sounded loud, shrill, and continuously. The alarm- 
cry of “Bows and bills 1 — bows and bills!” was heard 
from quarter to quarter, again and again shouted, and again 
and again answered by the presence of the ready warriors, 
and their national invocation, “St. George for merry Eng¬ 
land ! ” 

The alarm went through the nearest quarter of the camp, 
and men of all the various nations assembled, where, perhaps, 
every people in Christendom had their representatives, flew to 
arms, and drew together under circumstances of general con¬ 
fusion, of which they knew neither the cause nor the object. 
It was, however, lucky, amid a scene so threatening, that the 
Earl of Salisbury, while he hurried after De Vaux’s summons, 
with a few only of the readiest English men-at-arms, directed 
the rest of the English host to be drawn up and kept under 
arms, to advance to Richard’s succor if necessity should re¬ 
quire, but in fit array, and under due command, and not with 
the tumultuary haste which their own alarm, and zeal for the 
King’s safety, might have dictated. 

In the meanwhile, without regarding for one instant the 
shouts, the cries, the tumult which began to thicken around 
him, Richard, with his dress in the last disorder, and his 
sheathed blade under his arm, pursued his way with the ut¬ 
most speed, followed only by De Vaux and one or two house-' 
hold servants, to St. George’s Mount. 

He outsped even the alarm which his impetuosity only had 1 
excited, and passed the quarter of his own gallant troops of 
Normandy, Poitou, Gascony, and Anjou 2 before the disturb-, 
ance had reached them, although the noise accompanying the 

1 Bills: broad, heavy, double-edged, hook-shaped blades, having a 
pike at the back and another at the top, attached to a long staff. 

2 Provinces of France. 


THE TALISMAN 


103 


German revel had induced many of the soldiery to get on foot 
to listen. The handful of Scots were also quartered in the 
vicinity, nor had they been disturbed by the uproar. But the 
King’s person and his haste were both remarked by the Knight 
of the Leopard, who, aware that danger must be afoot, and 
hastening to share in it, snatched his shield and sword and 
united himself to De Vaux, who with some difficulty kept pace 
with his impatient and fiery master. De Vaux answered a 
look of curiosity which the Scottish knight directed towards 
him with a shrug of his broad shoulders, and they continued, 
side by side, to pursue Richard’s steps. 

The King was soon at the foot of St. George’s Mount, the 
sides as well as platform of which were now surrounded and 
crowded, partly by those belonging to the Duke of Austria’s 
retinue, who were celebrating, with shouts of jubilee, the act 
which they considered as an assertion of national honor; 
partly by bystanders of different nations, whom dislike to the 
English, or mere curiosity, had assembled together to witness 
the end of these extraordinary proceedings. Through this 
disorderly troop Richard burst his w T ay, like a goodly ship 
under full sail, which cleaves her forcible passage through the 
rolling billows, and heeds not that they unite after her passage 
and roar upon her stern. 

The summit of the eminence was a small level space, on 
which were pitched the rival banners, surrounded still by the 
Archduke’s friends and retinue. In the midst of the circle 
was Leopold himself, still contemplating with self-satisfaction 
the deed he had done, and still listening to the shouts of ap¬ 
plause which his partizans bestowed with no sparing breath. 
While he was in this state of self-gratulation, Richard burst 
into the circle, attended, indeed, only by two men, but in his 
own headlong energies an irresistible host. 

“Who has dared,” he said, laying his hands upon the Aus¬ 
trian standard, and speaking in a voice like the sound which 


104 


THE TALISMAN 


precedes an earthquake— “who has dared to place this paltry 
rag beside the banner of England 1 ” 

The Archduke wanted not personal courage, and it was im¬ 
possible he could hear this question without reply. Yet so 
much was he troubled and surprised by the unexpected arrival 
of Richard, and affected by the general awe inspired by his 
ardent and unyielding character, that the demand was twice 
repeated, in a tone which seemed to challenge heaven and 
earth, ere the Archduke replied, with such firmness as he could 
command : “It was I, Leopold of Austria.” 

“ Then shall Leopold of Austria,” replied Richard, “ pres¬ 
ently see the rate at which his banner and his pretensions are 
held by Richard of England.” 

So saying, he pulled up the standard-spear, splintered it to 
pieces, threw the banner itself on the ground, and placed his 
foot upon it. 

“ Thus,” said he, “ I trample on the banner of Austria ! Is 
there a knight among your Teutonic chivalry dare impeach my 
deed V’ 

There was a momentary silence; but there are no braver 
men than the Germans. 

“ I! ” and “ I! ” and “I!” was heard from several knights 
of the Duke’s followers; and he himself added his voice to 
those which accepted the King of England’s defiance. 

“Why do we dally thus?” said the Earl Wallenrode, a 
gigantic warrior from the frontiers of Hungary. “Brethren 
and noble gentlemen, this man’s foot is on the honor of your 
country. Let us rescue it from violation, and down with the 
pride of England ! ” 

So saying, he drew his sword and struck at the King a blow 
which might have proved fatal, had not the Scot intercepted 
and caught it upon his shield. 

“ I have sworn,” said King Richard, and his voice was heard 
above all the tumult, which now waxed wild and loud, “ never 


THE TALISMAN 


105 




to strike one whose shoulder bears the cross; therefore live, 
Wallenrode, but live to remember Richard of England.” 

As he spoke, he grasped the tall Hungarian round the waist, 
and, unmatched in wrestling as in other military exercises, 
hurled him backwards with such violence that the mass flew, 
as if discharged from a military engine, not only through the 
ring of spectators who witnessed the extraordinary scene, but 
over the edge of the mount itself, down the steep side of which 
Wallenrode rolled headlong, until, pitching at length upon his 
shoulder, he dislocated the bone, and lay like one dead. This 
almost supernatural display of strength did not encourage 
either the Duke or any of his followers to renew a personal 
contest so inauspiciously commenced. Those who stood far¬ 
thest back did, indeed, clash their swords and cry out, “ Cut 
the island mastiff to pieces! ” but those who were nearer 
veiled, perhaps, their personal fears under an affected regard 
for order, and cried, for the most part: “ Peace — peace — the 
peace of the Cross — the peace of Holy Church and our Father 
the Pope ! ” 

These various cries of the assailants, contradicting each 
other, showed their irresolution ; while Richard, his foot still 
on the archducal banner, glared round him, with an eye that 
seemed to seek an enemy, and from which the angry nobles 
shrunk appalled, as from the threatened grasp of a lion. De 
Yaux and the Knight of the Leopard kept their places beside 
him; and though the swords which they held were still 
sheathed, it was plain that they were prompt to protect Rich¬ 
ard’s person to the very last, and their size and remarkable 
strength plainly showed the defence would be a desperate one. 

Salisbury and his attendants were also now drawing near, 
with bills and partizans brandished, and bows already bended. 

At this moment, King Philip of France, attended by one or 
two of his nobles, came on the platform to inquire the cause 
of the disturbance, and made gestures of surprise at finding 



106 


THE TALISMAN 


the King of England raised from his sick-bed, and confronting 
their common ally the Duke of Austria in such a menacing 
and insulting posture. Richard himself blushed at being dis¬ 
covered by Philip, whose sagacity he respected as much as he 
disliked his person, in an attitude neither becoming his char¬ 
acter as a monarch nor as a Crusader ; and it was observed 
that he withdrew his foot, as if accidentally, from the dis¬ 
honored banner, and exchanged his look of violent emotion 
for one of affected composure and indifference. Leopold also 
struggled to attain some degree of calmness, mortified as he 
was by having been seen by Philip in the act of passively sub¬ 
mitting to the insults of the fiery King of England. 

Possessed of many of those royal qualities for which he was 
termed by his subjects “ the august,” Philip might be termed 
the Ulysses, as Richard was indisputably the Achilles, of the 
Crusade. 1 The King of France was sagacious, wise, deliberate 
in council, steady and calm in action, seeing clearly, and 
steadily pursuing, the measures most for the interest of his 
kingdom, dignified and royal in his deportment, brave in per¬ 
son, but a politician rather than a warrior. The Crusade 
would have been no choice of his own, but the spirit was con¬ 
tagious, and the expedition was enforced upon him by the 
church, and by the unanimous wish of his nobility. In any 
other situation, or in a milder age, his character might have 
stood higher than that of the adventurous Coeur-de-Lion; but 
in the Crusade, itself an undertaking wholly irrational, sound 
reason was the quality, of all others, least estimated, and the 
chivalric valor which both the age and the enterprise de¬ 
manded was considered as debased if mingled with the least 
touch “of discretion. So that the merit of Philip, compared 
with that of his haughty rival, showed like the clear but mi¬ 
nute flame of a lamp, placed near the glare of a huge blazing 

1 Only the careful reading of the Iliad of Homer will make signifi¬ 
cant these references. 


THE TALISMAN 


107 


torch, which, not possessing half the utility, makes ten times 
more impression on the eye. Philip felt his inferiority in 
public opinion, with the pain natural to a high-spirited prince; 
and it cannot be wondered at if he took such opportunities as 
offered for placing his own character in more advantageous 
contrast with that of his rival. The present seemed one of 
those occasions in which prudence and calmness might reasona¬ 
bly expect to triumph over obstinancy and impetuous violence. 

“ What means this unseemly broil betwixt the sworn breth¬ 
ren of the Cross — the royal Majesty of England and the princely 
Duke Leopold ? How is it possible that those who are the 
chiefs and pillars of this holy expedition-” 

“ A truce with thy remonstrance, France,” said Richard, 
enraged inwardly at finding himself placed on a sort of equal¬ 
ity with Leopold, yet not knowing how to resent it, “ this 
duke, or prince, or pillar, if you will, hath been insolent, and 
I have chastised him — that is all. Here is a coil, forsooth, 
because of spurning a hound ! ” 

“Majesty of France,” said the Duke, “ I appeal to you and 
every sovereign prince against the foul indignity which I have 
sustained. This King of England hath pulled down my banner, 
torn, and trampled on it.” 

“ Because he had the audacity to plant it beside mine,” said 
Richard. 

“My rank as thine equal entitled me,” replied the Duke, 
emboldened by the presence of Philip. 

“ Assert such equality for thy person,” said King Richard, 
“ and, by St. George, I will treat thy person as I did thy 
broidered kerchief there, fit but for the meanest use to which 
kerchief may be put.” 

“Nay, but patience, brother of England,” said Philip, and 
I will presently show Austria that he is wrong in this matter. 
Do not think, noble Duke,” he continued, “ that, in permitting 
the standard of England to occupy the highest point in our 



108 


THE TALISMAN 


camp, we, the independent sovereigns of the Crusade, acknowl¬ 
edge any inferiority to the royal Richard. It were inconsistent 
to think so; since even the oriflamme itself — the great banner 
of France, to which the royal Richard himself, in respect of his 
French possessions, is but a vassal — holds for the present an 
inferior place to the lions of England. But as sworn brethren 
of the Cross, military pilgrims, who, laying aside the pomp and 
pride of this world, are hewing with our swords the way to the 
Holy Sepulchre, I myself, and the other princes, have renounced 
to King Richard, from respect to his high renown and great feats 
of arms, that precedence which elsewhere, and upon other motives, 
would not have been yielded. I am satisfied that, when your 
royal grace of Austria shall have considered this, you will express 
sorrow for having placed your banner on this spot, and that the 
royal Majesty of England will then give satisfaction for the 
insult he has offered.” 

The Duke answered sullenly, that he would refer his quarrel 
to the general council of the Crusade — a motion which Philip 
highly applauded, as qualified to take away a scandal most 
harmful to Christendom. 

Richard, retaining the same careless attitude, listened to 
Philip until his oratory seemed exhausted, and then said aloud : 
“I am drowsy, this fever hangs about me still. Brother of 
France, thou art acquainted with my humor, and that I have 
at all times but few words to spare; know, therefore, at once, 
I will submit a matter touching the honor of England neither 
to prince, pope, nor council. Here stands my banner; what¬ 
soever pennon shall be reared within three butts’ length of it 
— ay, were it the oriflamme, of which you were, I think, but 
now speaking — shall be treated as that dishonored rag; nor 
will I yield other satisfaction than that which these poor limbs 
can render in the lists to any bold challenge—ay, were it against 
five champions instead of one.” 

Philip answered calmly to the almost injurious defiance of 


THE TALISMAN 


109 


Richard : “I came not hither to awaken fresh quarrels, contrary 
to the oath we have sworn and the holy cause in which we have 
engaged. I part from my brother of England as brothers should 
part, and the only strife between the lions of England and the 
lilies of France shall be, which shall be carried deepest into the 
ranks of the infidels.” 

“It is a bargain, my royal brother,” said Richard, stretching 
out his hand with all the frankness which belonged to his rash 
but generous disposition; “ and soon may we have the oppor¬ 
tunity to try this gallant and fraternal wager.” 

“ Let this noble Duke also partake in the friendship of this 
happy moment,” said Philip ; and the Duke approached, half- 
sullenly, half willing to enter into some accommodation. 

“ I think not of fools, nor of their folly,” said Richard, care¬ 
lessly ; and the Archduke, turning his back on him, withdrew 
from the ground. 

Richard looked after him as he retired. “There is a sort 
of glow-worm courage,” he said, “ that shows only by night. 
I must not leave this banner unguarded in darkness; by day¬ 
light the look of the lions will alone defend it. Here, Thomas 
of Gfilsland, I give thee the charge of the standard — watch 
over the honor of England.” 

“Her safety is yet more dear to me,” said De Yaux, “and 
the life of Richard is the safety of England. I must have 
your Highness back to your tent, and that without further 
tarriance.” 

“ Thou art a rough and peremptory nurse, De Vaux,” said 
the King, smiling; and then added, addressing Sir Kenneth : 
«Valiant Scot, I owe thee a boon, and I will pay it richly. 
There stands the banner of England; watch it as a novice does 
his armor on the night before he is dubbed. Stir not from 
it three spears’ length, and defend it with thy body against 
injury or insult. Sound thy bugle, if thou art assailed by more 
than three at once. Dost thou undertake the charge ? 


110 


THE TALISMAN 


“Willingly,” said Kenneth; “and will discharge it upon 
penalty of my head. I will but arm me and return hither in¬ 
stantly.” 

The Kings of France and England then took formal leave 
of each other, hiding, under an appearance of courtesy, the 
grounds of complaint which either had against the other — 
Richard against Philip, for what he deemed an officious inter¬ 
ference betwixt him and Austria, and Philip against Coeur- 
de-Lion, for the disrespectful manner in which his mediation 
had been received. Those whom this disturbance had assembled 
now drew off in different directions, leaving the contested mount 
in the same solitude which had subsisted till interrupted by the 
Austrian bravado. Men judged of the events of the day accord¬ 
ing to their partialities; and while the English charged the 
Austrian with having afforded the first ground of quarrel, those 
of other nations concurred in casting the greater blame upon 
the insular haughtiness and assuming character of Richard. 

“Thou seest,” said the Marquis of Montserrat to the Grand 
Master of the Templars, “that subtle courses are more effec¬ 
tive than violence. I have unloosed the bonds which held 
together this bunch of sceptres and lances; thou wilt see them 
shortly fall asunder.” 

“ I would have called thy plan a good one,” said the Templar, 
“ had there been but one man of courage among yonder cold¬ 
blooded Austrians, to sever the bonds of which you speak with 
his sword. A knot that is unloosed may again be fastened, but 
not so the cord which has been cut to pieces.” 


THE TALISMAN 


111 


CHAPTER XII 

’Tis woman that seduces all mankind. 

Gay. 

In the days of chivalry, a dangerous post, or a perilous ad¬ 
venture, was a reward frequently assigned to military bravery 
as a compensation for its former trials; just as, in ascending 
a precipice, the surmounting one crag only lifts the climber to 
points yet more dangerous. 

It was midnight, and the moon rode clear and high in heaven, 
when Kenneth of Scotland stood upon his watch on St. George’s 
Mount, beside the banner of England —a solitary sentinel, to 
protect the emblem of that nation against the insults which 
might be meditated among the thousands whom Richard’s pride 
had made his enemies. High thoughts rolled, one after another, 
upon the mind of the warrior. It seemed to him as if he had 
gained some favor in the eyes of the chivalrous monarch, who 
till now had not seemed to distinguish him among the crowds 
of brave men whom his renown had assembled under his ban¬ 
ner, and Sir Kenneth little recked that the display of royal 
regard consisted in placing him upon a post so perilous. The 
devotion of his ambitious and high-placed affection inflamed 
his military enthusiasm. Hopeless as that attachment was, 
in almost any conceivable circumstances, those which had lately 
occurred had, in some degree, diminished the distance between 
Edith and himself. He upon whom Richard had conferred the 
distinction of guarding his banner was no longer an adventurer 
of slight note, but placed within the regard of a princess, 
although he was as far as ever from her level. An unknown 
and obscure fate could not now be his. If he was surprised 
and slain on the post which had been assigned him, his death 
— and he resolved it should be glorious — must deserve the 


112 


THE TALISMAN 


praises, as well as call down the vengeance, of Coeur-de-Lion, 
and be followed by the regrets, and even the tears, of the high¬ 
born beauties of the English court. He had now no longer 
leason to fear that he should die as a fool dieth. 

Sir Kenneth had full leisure to enjoy these and similar high- 
souled thoughts, fostered by that wild spirit of chivalry which, 
amid its most extravagant and fantastic flights, was still pure 
from all selfish alloy — generous, devoted, and perhaps only 
thus far censurable, that it proposed objects and courses of 
action inconsistent with the frailties and imperfections of man. 
All nature around him slept in calm moonshine or in deep 
shadow. The long rows of tents and pavilions, glimmering 
or darkening as they lay in the moonlight or in the shade 
were still and silent as the streets of a deserted city. Beside 
the banner-staff lay the large staghound already mentioned, 
the sole companion of Kenneth’s watch, on whose vigilance he 
trusted for early warning of the approach of any hostile foot¬ 
step. The noble animal seemed to understand the purpose of 
their watch, for he looked from time to time at the rich folds 
of the heavy pennon, and, when the cry of the sentinels came 
from the distant lines and defences of the camp, he answered 
them with one deep and reiterated bark, as if to affirm that he 
too was vigilant in his duty. From time to time, also, he 
lowered his lofty head and wagged his tail, as his master 
passed and repassed him in the short turns which he took 
upon his post; or, when the knight stood silent and abstracted, 
leaning on his lance, and looking up towards heaven, his faith¬ 
ful attendant ventured sometimes, in the phrase of romance, 
t° disturb his thoughts,” and awaken him from his revery 
by thrusting his large rough snout into the knight’s gauntleted 
nand, to solicit a transitory caress. 

Thus passed two hours of the knight’s watch without any¬ 
thing remarkable occurring. At length, and upon a sudden, 
the gallant staghound bayed furiously, and seemed about to 


THE TALISMAN 


113 


i 0 lash forward where the shadow lay the darkest, yet waited, 
j,,s if in the slips, till he should know the pleasure of his 
paster. 

“ Who goes there ? ” said Sir Kenneth, aware that there was 
g omething creeping forward on the shadowy side of the mount. 
c As he spoke, he poised his long lance by the middle, and, 
u ixing his eye upon the object which seemed to move, he 
tt )randished the weapon, as if meditating to cast it from his 
( land — a use of the weapon sometimes, though rarely, resorted 
jjjO, when a missile was necessary. But Sir Kenneth was 
shamed of his purpose, and grounded his weapon, when there 
stepped from the shadow into the moonlight, like an actor 
pntering upon the stage, a stunted, decrepit creature, whom, 
{ >y his fantastic dress and deformity, he recognized, even at 
„ ome distance, for the male of the two dwarfs whom he had 
jeen in the chapel at Engaddi. Recollecting, at the same 
jQoment, the other, and far different, visions of that extraordi- 
ary night, he gave his dog a signal, which he instantly under¬ 
took and, returning to the standard, laid himself down beside 
! t with a stifled growl. 

, The little distorted miniature of humanity, assured of his 
afety from an enemy so formidable, came panting up the 
iscent, which the shortness of his legs rendered laborious, and, 
vhen he arrived on the platform at the top, shifted to his left 
land the little cross-bow, which was just such a toy as children 
it that period were permitted to shoot small birds with, and, 
issuming an attitude of great dignity, gracefully extended his 
ight hand to Sir Kenneth, in an attitude as if he expected he 
rould salute it. But such a result not following, he demanded, 
a a sharp and angry tone of voice : “ Soldier, wherefore render- 
st thou not to Nectabanus the homage due to his dignity ? Or, 
i it possible that thou canst have forgotten him 1 ” 

“Great Nectabanus,” answered the knight, willing to soothe 
he creature’s humor, “ that were difficult for any one who has 



114 


THE TALISMAN 


ever looked upon thee. Pardon me, however, that, being , 
soldier upon my post, with my lance in my hand, I may n<] 
give to one of thy puissance the advantage of coming withij 
my guard, or of mastering my weapon. Suffice it, that I re! 
erence thy dignity, and submit myself to thee as humbly as j 
man-at-arms in my place may.” 

“It shall suffice,” said Nectabanus, “so that you present]] 
attend me to the presence of those who have sent me hither 11 
summon you.” 

So saying, he placed in the knight’s hands a ruby ring, whicl] 
even in the moonlight, he had no difficulty to recognize as tint 
which usually graced the finger of the high-born lady to whof 
service he had devoted himself. Could he have doubted tlj 
truth of the token, he would have been convinced by the smaj 
knot of carnation-colored ribbon which was fastened to the rin; 1 
This was his lady’s favorite color, and more than once had ij 
himself, assuming it for that of his own liveries, caused tl 
carnation to triumph over all other hues in the lists and in tl 
battle. 

Sir Kenneth was struck nearly mute by seeing such a tokej 
in such hands. 

“ In the name of all that is sacred, from whom didst the 
receive this witness ? ” said the knight. “ Bring, if thou cans' 
thy wavering understanding to a right settlement for a minul 
or two, and tell me the person by whom thou art sent, and tl 
real purpose of thy message; and take heed what thou say’s 
for this is no subject for buffoonery.” 

“Fond and foolish knight,” said the dwarf, “wouldst tho 
know more of this matter than that thou art honored wit ! 
commands from a princess, delivered to thee by a king? W 
list not to parley with thee farther than to command thee, i 
the name and by the power of that ring, to follow us to V 
who is the owner of the ring. Every minute that thou tarries 
is a crime against thy allegiance.” 




THE TALISMAN 


115 


11 The knight gazed again on the ring, as if to ascertain that 
iere was no possible falsehood in the token. “Tell me,” he 
!iid to the dwarf, “is my presence required for any length of 
me?” 

1 “ Time! ” answered Nectabanus, in his flighty manner; 

what call you time ? I see it not — I feel it not; it is but a 
fiadowy name — a succession of breathings measured forth by 
ight by the clank of a bell, by day by a shadow crossing along 
dial-stone. Know’st thou not a true knight’s time should 
| ily be reckoned by the deeds that he performs in behalf of 
5 od and his lady ? ” 

* “The words of truth, though in the mouth of folly,” said the 
d night. “ And doth my lady really summon me to some deed 
15 ’action in her name and for her sake? and may it not be 
Sstponed for even the few hours till daybreak?” 
jj 1 “She requires thy presence instantly,” said the dwarf, “and 
ithout the loss of so much time as would be told by ten grains 
n ’the sand-glass. Hearken, thou cold-blooded and suspicious 
night, these are her very words: ‘ Tell him that the hand 
k'hich dropped roses can bestow laurels.’” 

This allusion to their meeting in the chapel of Engaddi sent 
1 thousand recollections through Sir Kenneth’s brain, and con¬ 
vinced him that the message delivered by the dwarf was genuine. 
1 'he rosebuds, withered as they were, were still treasured under 
is cuirass, and nearest to his heart. He paused, and could 
a ot resolve to forego an opportunity — the only one which 
light ever offer — to gain grace in her eyes whom he had installed 
sovereign of his affections. The dwarf, in the meantime, 
ugmented his confusion by insisting either that he must re¬ 
am the ring or instantly attend him. 

1 “I can return in an instant,” said the knight, shutting his 
yes desperately to all farther consequences. “ I can hear from 
hence the bay of my dog, if any one approaches the standard; 
will throw myself at my lady’s feet, and pray her leave to 



116 


THE TALISMAN 


return to conclude my watch. Here, Roswal (calling his houi 
and throwing down his mantle by the side of the standa 
spear), watch thou here, and let no one approach.” 

The majestic dog looked in his master’s face, as if to be si 
that he understood his charge, then sat down beside the manl 
with ears erect and head raised, like a sentinel, understand]’ 
perfectly the purpose for which he was stationed there. 

“Come now, good Nectabanus,” said the knight, “let! 
hasten to obey the commands thou hast brought.” 

“Haste he that will,” said the dwarf, sullenly; “thou hi 
not been in haste to obey my summons, nor can I walk £ 
enough to follow your long strides : you do not walk like 
man, but bound like an ostrich in the desert.” 

There were but two ways of conquering the obstinacy 
Nectabanus, who, as he spoke, diminished his walk into a sn 
pace. For bribes Sir Kenneth had no means, for soothing 
time; so in his impatience he snatched the dwarf up from V 
ground, and bearing him along, notwithstanding his entreat 
and his fear, reached nearly to the pavilion pointed out as tl 
of the Queen. In approaching it, however, the Scot obser\ 
there was a small guard of soldiers sitting on the ground, w 
had been concealed from him by the intervening tents. W< 
dering that the clash of his own armor had not yet attract 
their attention, and supposing that his motions might, on t 
present occasion, require to be conducted with secrecy, he plat 
the little panting guide upon the ground to recover his brea 
and point out what was next to be done. Nectabanus was be 
frightened and angry ; but he had felt himself as completely 
the power of the robust knight as an owl in the claws of 
eagle, and therefore cared not to provoke him to any fartl 
display of his strength. 

He made no complaints, therefore, of the usage he had 
ceived, but turning amongst the labyrinth of tents, he led tl 
knight in silence to the opposite side of the pavilion, which tl: 




THE TALISMAN 


117 


screened them from the observation of the warders, who seemed 
either too negligent or too sleepy to discharge their duty with 
much accuracy. Arrived there, the dwarf raised the under part 
of the canvas from the ground, and made signs to Sir Kenneth 
that he should introduce himself to the inside of the tent, by 
creeping under it. The knight hesitated : there seemed an in¬ 
decorum in thus privately introducing himself into a pavilion 
pitched, doubtless, for the accommodation of noble ladies; but he 
recalled to remembrance the assured tokens which the dwarf had 
exhibited, and concluded that it was not for him to dispute his 
lady’s pleasure. 

He stoopt accordingly, crept beneath the canvas inclosure of 
the tent, and heard the dwarf whisper from without: “Remain 
there until I call thee.” 


CHAPTER XIII 

You talk of gayety and innocence ! 

The moment when the fatal fruit was eaten, 

They parted ne’er to meet again ; and malice 
Has ever since been playmate to light gayety, 

From the first moment when the smiling infant 
Destroys the flower or butterfly he toys with 
To the last chuckle of the dying miser, 

Who on his deathbed laughs his last to hear 
His wealthy neighbor has become a bankrupt. 

Old Play. 

Sir Kenneth was left for some minutes alone and in dark¬ 
ness. Here was another interruption, which must prolong his 
absence from his post, and he began almost to repent the facil¬ 
ity with which he had been induced to quit it. But to return 
without seeing the Lady Edith was now not to be thought of. 
He had committed a breach of military discipline, and was 
determined at least to prove the reality of the seductive expec¬ 
tations which had tempted him to do so. Meanwhile, his situa- 


118 


THE TALISMAN 




tion was unpleasant. There was no light to show him into 
what sort of apartment he had been led; the Lady Edith was 
in immediate attendance on the Queen of England, and the dis¬ 
covery of his having introduced himself thus furtively into the 
royal pavilion might, were it discovered, lead to much and dan-; 
gerous suspicion. While he gave way to these unpleasant re¬ 
flections, and began almost to wish that he could achieve his- 
retreat unobserved, he heard a noise of female voices, laughing, 
whispering, and speaking in an adjoining apartment, from which, 
as the sounds gave him reason to judge, he could only be sepa-; 
rated by a canvas partition. Lamps were burning, as he might ! 
perceive by the shadowy light which extended itself even to his 
side of the veil which divided the tent, and he could see shades 
of several figures sitting and moving in the adjoining apartment. ' 
It cannot be termed discourtesy in Sir Kenneth that, situated 
as he was, he overheard a conversation in which he found him-i 
self deeply interested. 

“ Call her — call her, for Our Lady’s sake,” said the voice of i 
one of these laughing invisibles. “ Nectabanus, thou shalt be 
made ambassador to Prester John’s 1 court, to show them how 
wisely thou canst discharge thee of a mission.” 

The shrill tone of the dwarf was heard, yet so much sub-' 
dued, that Sir Kenneth could not understand what he said, 
except that he spoke something of the means of merriment 
given to the guard. 

“But how shall we rid us of the spirit which Nectabanus:■ 
hath raised, my maidens ? ” 

“Hear me, royal madam,” said another voice; “if the sagei 
and princely Nectabanus be not over-jealous of his most tran-i 
scendent bride and empress, let us send her to get us rid of this 

1 Prester John was a mythical Christian potentate of the twelfth ’ 
century. He was said to have broken the Mohammedan power in 
Western Asia and was leading an invincible army toward Jerusalem to! 
destroy the Mohammedan faith and reestablish the Holy City. 





THE TALISMAN 


119 


i insolent knight-errant, who can be so easily persuaded that 
high-born dames may need the use of his insolent and over¬ 
weening valor.” 

“It were but justice, methinks,” replied another, “that the 
Princess Guenevra should dismiss, by her courtesy, him whom 
her husband’s wisdom has been able to entice hither.” 

Struck to the heart with shame and resentment at what he 
had heard, Sir Kenneth was about to attempt his escape from 
the tent at all hazards, when what followed arrested his pur¬ 
pose. 

“Nay, truly,” said the first speaker, “our cousin Edith must 
first learn how this vaunted wight hath conducted himself, 
and we must reserve the power of giving her ocular proof that 
he hath failed in his duty. It may be a lesson will do good 
upon her; for, credit me, Calista, I have sometimes thought 
she has let this Northern adventurer sit nearer her heart than 
prudence would sanction.” 

One of the other voices was then heard to mutter something 
of the Lady Edith’s prudence and wisdom. 

“ Prudence, wench ! ” was the reply. “ It is mere pride, 
and the desire to be thought more rigid than any of us. Nay, 
I will not quit my advantage. You know well that, when she 
has us at fault, no one can, in a civil way, lay your error 
before you more precisely than can my Lady Edith. But here 
she comes.” 

A figure, as if entering the apartment, cast upon the parti¬ 
tion a shade, which glided along slowly until it mixed with 
those which already clouded it. Despite of the bitter disap¬ 
pointment which he had experienced, despite the insult and 
injury with which it seemed he had been visited by the 
malice, or, at best, by the idle humor of Queen Berengaria 
(for he already concluded that she who spoke loudest, and in 
a commanding tone, was the wife of Richard), the knight felt 
something so soothing to his feelings in learning that Edith 


120 


THE TALISMAN 


had been no partner to the fraud practised on him, and so in¬ 
teresting to his curiosity in the scene which was about to take 
place, that, instead of prosecuting his more prudent purpose 
of an instant retreat, he looked anxiously, on the contrary, for 
some rent or crevice by means of which he might be made eye 
as well as ear-witness to what was to go forward. 

“ Surely,” said he to himself, “ the Queen, who hath been 
pleased for an idle frolic to endanger my reputation, and 
perhaps my life, cannot complain if I avail myself of the 
chance which fortune seems willing to afford me, to obtain 
knowledge of her further intentions.” 

It seemed, in the meanwhile, as if Edith were waiting for 
the commands of the Queen, and as if the other were re¬ 
luctant to speak, for fear of being unable to command her 
laughter and that of her companions ; for Sir Kenneth could 
only distinguish a sound as of suppressed tittering and mer- j 
riment. 

“ Your Majesty,” said Edith, at last, “ seems in a merry I 
mood, though, methinks, the hour of night prompts a sleepy | 
one. I was well disposed bed ward, when I had your Majesty’s j 
commands to attend you.” 

“ I will not long delay you, cousin, from your repose,” said 
the Queen; “ though I fear you will sleep less soundly when 
I tell you your wager is lost.” 

“Nay, royal madam,” said Edith, “this, surely, is dwelling 
on a jest which has rather been worn out. I laid no wager, 
however it was your Majesty’s pleasure to suppose, or to insist, 
that I did so.” 

“Nay, now, despite our pilgrimage, Satan is strong with' 
you, my gentle cousin, and prompts thee to leasing. 1 Can you 
deny that you gaged your ruby ring against my golden brace¬ 
let that yonder Knight of the Libbard, or how call you him, 
could not be seduced from his post ? ” 

1 Leasing: lying. 




THE TALISMAN 


121 


“ Your Majesty is too great for me to gainsay you,” replied 
Edith; “ but these ladies can, if they will, bear me witness 
that it was your Highness who proposed such a wager, and 
took the ring from my finger, even while I was declaring that 
I did not think it maidenly to gage anything on such a 
subject.” 

“Nay, but, my Lady Edith,” said another voice, “ you must 
needs grant, under your favor, that you expressed yourself 
very confident of the valor of that same Knight of the 
Leopard.” 

“ And if I did, minion,” said Edith, angrily, “ is that a good 
reason why thou shouldst put in thy word to flatter her 
Majesty’s humor? I spoke of that knight but as all men 
speak who have seen him in the field, and had no more inter¬ 
est in defending than thou in detracting from him. In a 
camp, what can women speak of save soldiers and deeds of 
arms ? ” 

“ The noble Lady Edith,” said a third voice, “ hath never 
forgiven Calista and me, since we told your Majesty that she 
dropped two rosebuds in the chapel.” 

“Silence, Florise,” said the Queen, “and let not our indul¬ 
gence lead you to forget the difference betwixt yourself and 
the kinswoman of England. But you, my dear cousin,” she 
continued, resuming her tone of raillery, “ how can you, who 
are so good-natured, begrudge us poor wretches a few minutes’ 
laughing, when we have had so many days devoted to weeping 
and gnashing of teeth ? ” 

“Great be your mirth, royal lady,” said Edith ; “yet would 
I be content not to smile for the rest of my life rather 
than-” 

She stopped, apparently out of respect; but Sir Kenneth 
could hear that she was in much agitation. 

“ Forgive me,” said Berengaria, a thoughtless but good- 
humored princess of the house of Navarre; “ but what is the 



122 


THE TALISMAN 


great offence, after all? A young knight has been wiled 
hither ; has stolen—or has been stolen — from his post, which 
no one will disturb in his absence, for the sake of a fair lady ; 
for, to do your champion justice, sweet one, the wisdom of 
Nectabanus could conjure him hither in no name but yours.” 

“Gracious Heaven! your Majesty does not say so?” said 
Edith, in a voice of alarm quite different from the agitation 
she had previously evinced—“you cannot say so, consistently 
with respect for your own honor and for mine, your husband’s 
kinswoman ! Say you were jesting with me, my royal mis¬ 
tress, and forgive me that I could, even for a moment, think 
it possible you could be in earnest! ” 

“You are angry, fair cousin, at losing your favorite ring,” 
said the Queen. “ Come, since you grudge to pay your wager, 
we will renounce our right; it was your name and that pledge 
brought him hither, and we care not for the bait after the fish 
is caught.” 

“Madam,” replied Edith, impatiently, “you know well that 
your Grace could not wish for anything of mine but it becomes 
instantly yours. But I would give a bushel of rubies ere ring 
or name of mine had been used to bring a brave man into a 
fault, and perhaps to disgrace and punishment.” 

“ Oh, it is for the safety of our true knight that we fear ? ” 
said the Queen. “ You rate our power too low, fair cousin, when 
you speak of a life being lost for a frolic of ours. 0 Lady 
Edith, others have influence on the iron breasts of war¬ 
riors as well as you: the heart even of a lion is made of 
flesh, not of stone; and, believe me, I have interest enough 
with Richard to save this knight, in whose fate Lady Edith 
is so deeply concerned, from the penalty of disobeying his 
royal commands.” 

“ For the love of the blessed cross, most royal lady,” said 
Edith — and Sir Kenneth, with feelings which it were hard 
to unravel, heard her prostrate herself at the Queen’s feet_ 


THE TALISMAN 


123 


“ for the love of our blessed Lady, and of every holy saint in 
the calendar, beware what you do! You know not King 
Richard — you have been but shortly wedded to him: your 
breath might as well combat the west wind when it is wildest 
as your words persuade my royal kinsman to pardon a military 
offence. Oh ! for God’s sake, dismiss this gentleman, if in¬ 
deed you have lured him hither! I could almost be content 
to rest with the shame of having invited him, did I know that 
he was returned again where his duty calls him.” 

“Arise, cousin — arise,” said Queen Berengaria, “and be as¬ 
sured all will be better than you think. We will send Necta- 
banus to dismiss this Knight of the Standard to his post; and 
we ourselves will grace him on some future day, to make 
amends for his wildgoose chase. He is, I warrant, but lying 
perdu in some neighboring tent.” 

“ By my crown of lilies and my sceptre of a specially good 
water-reed,” said Nectabanus, “ your Majesty is mistaken: he 
is nearer at hand than you wot—he lieth ensconced there be¬ 
hind that canvas partition.” 

“ And within hearing of each word we have said ! ” exclaimed 
the Queen, in her turn violently surprised and agitated. “ Out, 
monster of folly and malignity! ” 

As she uttered these words, Nectabanus fled from the pa¬ 
vilion with a yell of such a nature as leaves it still doubtful 
whether Berengaria had confined her rebuke to words, or added 
some more emphatic expression of her displeasure. 

“ What can now be done ? ” said the Queen to Edith, in a 
whisper of undisguised uneasiness. 

“ That which must,” said Edith, firmly. “ We must see this 
gentleman, and place ourselves in his mercy.” 

So saying, she began hastily to undo a curtain which at one 
place covered an entrance or communication. 

The grief and agitation of the Lady Edith, as well as the 
deep interest she felt in a hasty explanation with the Scottish 


124 


THE TALISMAN 


knight, perhaps occasioned her forgetting that her locks were 
more dishevelled, and her person less heedfully covered, than was 
the wont of high-born damsels in an age which was not, after all, 
the most prudish or scrupulous period of the ancient time. A 
thin loose garment of pink-colored silk made the principal part 
of her vestments, with Oriental slippers, into which she had 
hastily thrust her bare feet, and a scarf hurriedly and loosely 
thrown about her shoulders. Her head had no other covering 
than the veil of rich and dishevelled locks falling round it on 
every side, that half hid a countenance which a mingled sense of 
modesty, and of resentment, and other deep and agitating feel¬ 
ings, had covered with crimson. 

But although Edith felt her situation with all that delicacy 
which is her sex’s greatest charm, it did not seem that for a 
moment she placed her own bashfulness in comparison with the 
duty which, as she thought, she owed to him who had been 
led into error and danger on her account. She drew, indeed, 
her scarf more closely over her neck and bosom, and she hastily 
laid from her hand a lamp, which shed too much lustre over 
her figure, but while Sir Kenneth stood motionless on the same 
spot in which he was first discovered, she rather stepped 
towards than retired from him, as she exclaimed : “ Hasten to 
your post, valiant knight; you are deceived in being trained 
hither. Ask no questions.” 

“I nee( l as k none,” said the knight, sinking upon one knee, 
with the reverential devotion of a saint at the altar, and bend¬ 
ing his eyes on the ground, lest his looks should increase the 
lady’s embarrassment. 

Ha\eyou heard all? said Edith, impatiently. “Gracious 
saints! then wherefore wait you here, when each minute that 
passes is loaded with dishonor ? ” 

I have heard that I am dishonored, lady, and I have heard 
it from you,” answered Kenneth. “What reck I how soon 
punishment follows ? I have but one petition to you, and then 


THE TALISMAN 


125 


I seek, among the sabres of the infidels, whether dishonor may 
not be washed out with blood.” 

“Do not so, neither,” said the lady. “Be wise: dally not 
here — all may yet be well, if you will but use despatch.” 

“I wait but for your forgiveness,” said the knight, still 
kneeling, “ for my presumption in believing that my poor ser¬ 
vices could have been required or valued by you.” 

“ I do forgive you. Oh, I have nothing to forgive ! I have 
been the means of injuring you. But, oh, begone! I will 
forgive — I will value you — that is, as I value every brave 
Crusader — if you will but begone ! ” 

“Receive, first, this precious yet fatal pledge,” said the 
knight, tendering the ring to Edith, who now showed gestures 
of impatience. 

“Oh, no — no,” she said, declining to receive it. “Keep it 
— keep it as a mark of my regard — my regret, I would say. 
Oh, begone, if not for your own sake, for mine ! ” 

Almost recompensed for the loss even of honor, which her 
voice had denounced to him, by the interest which she seemed 
to testify in his safety, Sir Kenneth rose from his knee, and, 
casting a momentary glance on Edith, bowed low and seemed 
about to withdraw. At the same instant, that maidenly bash- 
fulness, which the energy of Edith’s feelings had till then 
triumphed over, became conqueror in its turn, and she hast¬ 
ened from the apartment, extinguishing her lamp as she went, 
and leaving, in Sir Kenneth’s thoughts, both mental and natu¬ 
ral gloom behind her. 

She must be obeyed was the first distinct idea which waked 
him from his revery, and he hastened to the place by which 
he had entered the pavilion. To pass under the canvas in the 
manner he had entered required time and attention, and he 
made a readier aperture by slitting the canvas wall with his 
poniard. When in the free air, he felt rather stupefied and over¬ 
powered by a conflict of sensations than able to ascertain what 


126 


THE TALISMAN 


was the real import of the whole. He was obliged to spur 
himself to action, by recollecting that the commands of the 
Lady Edith had required haste. Even then, engaged as he was 
amongst tent-ropes and tents, he was compelled' to move with 
caution until he should regain the path or avenue aside from 
which the dwarf had led him, in order to escape the observation 
of the guards before the Queen’s pavilion ; and he was obliged 
also to move slowly, and with precaution, to avoid giving an 
alarm, either by falling or by the clashing of his armor. A 
thin cloud had obscured the moon, too, at the very instant of 
his leaving the tent, and Sir Kenneth had to struggle with this 
inconvenience at a moment when the dizziness of his head and 
the fulness of his heart scarce left him powers of intelligence 
sufficient to direct his motions. 

But at once sounds came upon his ear which instantly re¬ 
called him to the full energy of his faculties. These proceeded 
from the Mount of St. George. He heard first a single fierce, ' 
angry, and savage bark, which was immediately followed by a 
yell of agony. No deer ever bounded with a wilder start at 
the voice of Roswal than did Sir Kenneth at what he feared 
was the death-cry of that noble hound, from whom no ordinary 
injury could have extracted even the slightest acknowledgment 
of pain. He surmounted the space which divided him from the 
avenue, and, having attained it, began to run towards the mount, 
although loaded with his mail, faster than most men could have 
accompanied him even if unarmed, relaxed not his pace for the f 
steep sides of the artificial mound, and in a few minutes stood 
on the platform upon its summit. 

The moon broke forth at this moment, and showed him that , 
the standard of England was vanished, that the spear on which 
it had floated lay broken on the ground, and beside it was his 
faithful hound, apparently in the agonies of death. 



THE TALISMAN 


127 




CHAPTER XIV 

All my long arrear of honor lost, 
Heap’d up in youth, and hoarded up for age ! 

Hath honor’s fountain then suck’d up the stream ? 

He hath ; and hooting boys may barefoot pass, 

And gather pebbles from the naked ford. 

Don Sebastian. 


After a torrent of afflicting sensations, by which he was 
at first almost stunned and confounded, Sir Kenneth’s first 
I thought was to look for the authors of this violation of the 
English banner; but in no direction could he see traces of them. 
His next, which to some persons, but scarce to any who have 
| made intimate acquaintances among the canine race, may appear 
f strange, was to examine the condition of his faithful Roswal, 
mortally wounded, as it seemed, in discharging the duty which 
: his master had been seduced to abandon. He caressed the 
i dying animal, who, faithful to the last, seemed to forget his own 
pain in the satisfaction he received from his master’s presence, 
and continued wagging his tail and licking his hand, even while by 
! low moanings he expressed that his agony was increased by the 
attempts which Sir Kenneth made to withdraw from the wound 
the fragment of the lance, or javelin, with which it had been 
inflicted ; then redoubled his feeble endearments, as if fearing 
he had offended his master by showing a sense of the pain to 
| which his interference had subjected him. There was some¬ 
thing in the display of the dying creature’s attachment which 
mixed as a bitter ingredient with the sense of disgrace and deso¬ 
lation by which Sir Kenneth was oppressed. His only friend 
seemed removed from him, just when he had incurred the con¬ 
tempt and hatred of all besides. The knight’s strength of mind 
gave way to a burst of agonized distress, and he groaned and 
wept aloud. 



128 


THE TALISMAN 


While he thus indulged his grief, a clear and solemn voice, 
close beside him, pronounced these words in the sonorous tone i 
of the readers of the mosque, and in the lingua franca , mutually I 
understood by Christians and Saracens : 

“ Adversity is like the period of the former and of the latter 
rain — cold, comfortless, unfriendly to man and to animal; yet 
from that season have their birth the flower and the fruit — 
the date, the rose, and the pomegranate.” 

Sir Kenneth of the Leopard turned towards the speaker, and 
beheld the Arabian physician, who, approaching unheard, had : 
seated himself a little behind him cross-legged, and uttered with 
gravity, yet not without a tone of sympathy, the moral sentences 
of consolation with which the Koran and its commentators sup¬ 
plied him; for, in the East, wisdom is held to consist less in a' 
display of the sage’s own inventive talents than in his ready 
memory, and happy application of, and reference to, “that which 
is written.” 

Ashamed at being surprised in a womanlike expression of 
sorrow, Sir Kenneth dashed his tears indignantly aside, and 
again busied himself with his dying favorite. 

“ The poet hath said,” continued the Arab, without noticing 
the knight’s averted looks and sullen deportment, “ the ox for 
the field and the camel for the desert. Were not the hand: 
of the leech fitter than that of the soldier to cure wounds, 
though less able to inflict them ? ” 

“ This patient, Hakim, is beyond thy help,” said Sir Kenneth ; 

“ and, besides, he is, by thy law, an unclean animal.” 

“Where Allah hath deigned to bestow life, and a sense 
of pain and pleasure,” said the physician, “ it were sinful 
pride should the sage, whom He has enlightened, refuse to 
prolong existence or assuage agony. To the sage, the cure of a* 
miserable groom, of a poor dog, and of a conquering monarch' 
are events of little distinction. Let me examine this wounded 
animal.” 




THE TALISMAN 


129 


Sir Kennetii acceded in silence, and the physician inspected 
and handled Roswal’s wound with as much care and attention 
as if he had been a human being. He then took forth a case 
of instruments, and, by the judicious and skilful application of 
pincers, withdrew from the wounded shoulder the fragment of 
the weapon, and stopped with styptics 1 and bandages the effu¬ 
sion of blood which followed; the creature all the while suffer¬ 
ing him patiently to perform these kind offices, as if he had 
been aware of his kind intentions. 

“*The animal may be cured,” said El Hakim, addressing 
himself to Sir Kenneth, “ if you will permit me to carry him 
I to my tent, and treat him with the care which the nobleness of 
his nature deserves. For know, that thy servant Adonbec 
is no less skilful in the race, and pedigree, and distinctions of 
good dogs and of noble steeds than in the diseases which affect 
the human race.” 

“ Take him with you,” said the knight. “ I bestow him on 
I you freely if he recovers. I owe thee a reward for attendance 
'on my squire, and have nothing else to pay it with. For my¬ 
self, I will never again wind bugle or halloo to hound.” 

The Arabian made no reply, but gave a signal with a clap¬ 
ping of his hands, which was instantly answered by the ap¬ 
pearance of two black slaves. He gave them his orders in 
Arabic, received the answer, that “to hear was to obey,” 
when, taking the animal in their arms, they removed him 
without much resistance on his part; for, though his eyes 
turned to his master, he was too weak to struggle. 

“Fare thee well, Roswal, then,” said Sir Kenneth— “fare 
thee well, my last and only friend; thou art too noble a pos¬ 
session to be retained by one such as I must in future call 
myself. I would,” he said, as the slaves retired, “ that, dying 
as he is, I could exchange conditions with that noble animal! ” 

“It is written,” answered the Arabian, although the ex- 
1 Styptics : a medicine to stop the flow of blood. 

K 


130 


THE TALISMAN 


clamation had not been addressed to him, “ that all creatures 
are fashioned for the service of man; and the master of the 
earth speaketh folly when he would exchange, in his impa¬ 
tience, his hopes here and to come for the servile condition oi 
an inferior being.” 

“ A dog who dies in discharging his duty,” said the knight, 
sternly, “is better than a man who survives the desertion of 
it. Leave me, Hakim ; thou hast, on this side of miracle, tin 
most wonderful science which man ever possessed, but the 
wounds of the spirit are beyond thy power.” 

“Not if the patient will explain his calamity, and be guidec 
by the physician,” said Adonbec el Hakim. 

“Know, then,” said Sir Kenneth, “since thou art so im 
portunate, that last night the banner of England was displaye( 
from this mound — I was its appointed guardian; morning ii; 
now breaking — there lies the broken banner-spear, the stand 
ard itself is lost, and here sit I a living man ! ” 

“ How! ” said El Hakim, examining him; “ thy armor if 
whole, there is no blood on thy weapons, and report speak I 
thee one unlikely to return thus from fight. Thou hast beei] 
trained from thy post — ay, trained by the rosy cheek an< 
black eye of one of those houris to whom you Nazarenes vo\ 
rather such service as is due to Allah than such love as ma; 
lawfully be rendered to forms of clay like our own. It ha 
been thus assuredly; for so hath man ever fallen, even sincl 
the days of Sultan Adam.” 

“And if it were so, physician,” said Sir Kenneth, sullenlj 
“ what remedy ? ” 

“ Knowledge is the parent of power,” said El Hakim, “ a 
valor supplies strength. Listen to me. Man is not as 
tree, bound to one spot of earth ; nor is he framed to clini 
to one bare rock, like the scarce animated shell-fish. Thin 
own Christian writings command thee, when persecuted v 
one city, to flee to another; and we Moslem also know tha 



THE TALISMAN 


131 


Ilohammed, the Prophet of Allah, driven forth from the holy 
ity of Mecca, found his refuge and his helpmates at Medina.” 

“ And what does this concern me ? ” said the Scot. 

“ Much,” answered the physician. “ Even the sage flies the 
empest which he cannot control. Use thy speed, therefore, 
nd fly from the vengeance of Richard to the shadow of Sala- 
jin’s victorious banner.” 

“I might indeed hide my dishonor,” said Sir Kenneth, 
[onically, “ in a camp of infidel heathens where the very 
Ihrase is unknown. But had I not better partake more fully 
a their reproach ? Does not thy advice stretch so far as to 
'icommend me to take the turban? Methinks I want but 
postasy to consummate my infamy.” 

“Blaspheme not, Nazarene,” said the physician, sternly. 
Saladin makes no converts to the law of the Prophet, save 
lose on whom its precepts shall work conviction. Open thine 
” es to the light, and the great Soldan, whose liberality is as 
oundless as his power, may bestow on thee a kingdom; re¬ 
am blinded if thou wilt, and, being one whose second life is 
pomed to misery, Saladin will yet, for this span of present 
^me, make thee rich and happy. But fear not that thy brows 
|nall be bound with the turban, save at thine own free choice.” 

“ My choice were rather,” said the knight, “ that my writhen 
atures should blacken, as they are like to do, in this even- 
g’s setting sun.” 

: “Yet thou art not wise, Kazarene,” said El Hakim, “to re- 
pt this fair offer; for I have power with Saladin, and can 
!ise thee high in his grace. Look you, my son; this Cru- 
i de, as you call your wild enterprise, is like a large dromond 1 
rting asunder in the waves. Thou thyself hast borne terms 
truce from the kings and princes whose force is here assem- 
?d to the mighty Soldan, and knew’st not, perchance, the 
11 tenor of thine own errand.” 

1 Dromond: a large transport vessel. 




132 


THE TALISMAN 


“ I knew not, and I care not,” said the knight, impatiently 
“what avails it to me that I have been of late the envoy o 
princes, when, ere night, I shall be a gibbeted and dishonors 
corse ? ” 

“Nay, I speak that it may not be so with thee,” said th; 
physician. “Saladin is courted on all sides: the combine 
princes of this league formed against him have made sue 
proposals of composition and peace as, in other circumstance. 1 
it might have become his honor to have granted to then: 
Others have made private offers, on their own separate a< 
count, to disjoin their forces from the camp of the kings o 
Frangistan, and even to lend their arms to the defence of th 
standard of the Prophet. But Saladin will not be served b 
such treacherous and interested defection. The King of Kin| 
will treat only with the Lion King: Saladin will hold treat 
with none but the Melech Ric, and with him he will treat lib 
a prince, or fight like a champion. To Richard he will yiel 
such conditions of his free liberality as the swords of all Euroj 
could never compel from him by force or terror. He wi 
permit a free pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and all the place 
where the Nazarenes list to worship; nay, he will so far shai 
even his empire with his brother Richard, that he will alio 
Christian garrisons in the six strongest cities of Palestine, an 
one in Jerusalem itself, and suffer them to be under the in 
mediate command of the officers of Richard, who, he consent 
shall bear the name of King Guardian of Jerusalem. Y 
farther, strange and incredible as you may think it, know, S 
Knight — for to your honor I can commit even that almo: 
incredible secret — know that Saladin will put a sacred seal ( : 
this happy union betwixt the bravest and noblest of FrangistS 
and Asia, by raising to the rank of his royal spouse a Christk 
damsel, allied in blood to King Richard, and known by tl 
name of the Lady Edith of Plantagenet.” 

“ Ha ! say’st thou ? ” exclaimed Sir Kenneth, who, listeniij 




THE TALISMAN 


133 


with indifference and apathy to the preceding part of El Ha¬ 
kim’s speech, was touched by this last communication, as the 
thrill of a nerve, unexpectedly jarred, will awaken the sensation 
of agony, even in the torpor of palsy. Then, moderating his 
tone, by dint of much effort, he restrained his indignation, and, 
veiling it under the appearance of contemptuous doubt, he 
iprosecuted the conversation, in order to get as much knowledge 
as possible of the plot, as he deemed it, against the honor and 
happiness of her whom he loved not the less that his passion 
had ruined, apparently, his fortunes, at once, and his honor. 
|“ And what Christian,” he said, with tolerable calmness, 
|“ would sanction a union so unnatural as that of a Christian 
]maiden with an unbelieving Saracen ? ” 

“Thou art but an ignorant, bigoted Nazarene,” said the 
Hakim. “ Seest thou not how the Mohammedan princes daily 
(intermarry with the noble Nazarene maidens in Spain, with¬ 
out scandal either to Moor or Christian ? And the noble Sol- 
I3an will, in his full confidence in the blood of Richard, permit 
l:he English maid the freedom which your Frankish manners 
nave assigned to women. He will allow her the free exercise 
! )f her religion — seeing that, in very truth, it signifies but 
, ittle to which faith females are addicted — and he will assign 
tier such place and rank overall the women of his zenana, 1 that 
;he shall be in every respect his sole and absolute queen. Up, 
j herefore, Sir Knight, and to horse. I will give thee a scroll 
which shall advance thee highly with the Soldan; and deem 
[tot that you are leaving your country, or her cause, or her 
I eligion, since the interest of the two monarchs will speedily be 
I he same. To Saladin thy counsel will be most acceptable, since 
j hou canst make him aware of much concerning the marriages 
f the Christians, the treatment of their wives, and other 
toints of their laws and usages, which, in the course of such 
reaty, it much concerns him that he should know. The right 
1 Zenana: the dwelling-place of women of an Eastern harem. 


134 


THE TALISMAN 


hand of the Soldan grasps the treasures of the East, and it is 
the fountain of generosity. Or, if thou desirest it, Saladin, j 
when allied with England, can have but little difficulty to ob-i 
tain from Richard not only thy pardon and restoration to favor, 
but an honorable command in the troops which may be left of 
the King of England’s host to maintain their joint government 
in Palestine. Up, then, and mount; there lies a plain path 
before thee.” 

“Hakim,” said the Scottish knight, “thou art a man of: 
peace; also, thou hast saved the life of Richard of England.- 
and, moreover, of my own poor esquire, Strauchan. I have 
therefore, heard to an end a matter which, being propounded 
by another Moslem than thyself, I would have cut short witl j 
a blow of my dagger. Hakim, in return for thy kindness, }i 
advise thee to see that the Saracen who shall propose to Rich : 
ard a union betwixt the blood of Plantagenet and that of hil 
accursed race do put on a helmet which is capable to endurJ 
such a blow of a battle-axe as that which struck down the gat< 
of Acre. Certes, he will be otherwise placed beyond the read 
even of thy skill.” 

“ Thou art, then, wilfully determined not to fly to the Sara 
cen host?” said the physician. “Yet, remember, thou stayes;] 
to certain destruction; and the writings of thy law, as well a 
ours, prohibit man from breaking into the tabernacle of hi 
own life.” 

“God forbid ! ” replied the Scot, crossing himself; “but w 
are also forbidden to avoid the punishment which our crime! 
have deserved. And, since so poor are thy thoughts of fide 
ity, Hakim, it grudges me that I have bestowed my goo 
hound on thee, for, should he live, he will have a master ignd 
rant of his value.” 

“ A gift that is begrudged is already recalled,” said El H; 
kim, “ only we physicians are sworn not to send away a patiei 
uncured. If the dog recover, he is once more yours.” 




THE TALISMAN 


135 


“Go to, Hakim,” answered Sir Kenneth; “men speak not 
of hawk and hound when there is but an hour of day-breaking 
betwixt them and death. Leave me to recollect my sins and 
reconcile myself to Heaven.” 

“ I leave thee in thine obstinacy,” said the physician : “ the 
mist hides the precipice from those who are doomed to fall over 

it.” 

He withdrew slowly, turning from time to time his head, as 
if to observe whether the devoted knight might not recall him 
either by word or signal. At last his turbaned figure was lost 
among the labyrinth of tents which lay extended beneath, 
whitening in the pale light of the dawning, before which the 
moonbeam had now faded away. 

But although the physician Adonbec’s words had not made 
that impression upon Kenneth which the sage desired, they 
had inspired the Scot with a motive for desiring life, which, dis¬ 
honored as he conceived himself to be, he was before willing to 
! part from as from a sullied vestment no longer becoming his 
' wear. Much that had passed betwixt himself and the hermit, 

I besides what he had observed between the anchorite and Sheer- 
kohf (or Ilderim), he now recalled to recollection, and all 
’ tended to confirm what the Hakim had told him of the secret 
1 article of the treaty. 

“ The reverend impostor ! ” he exclaimed to himself— “ the 
hoary hypocrite! He spoke of the unbelieving husband con¬ 
verted by the believing wife \ and what do I know but that 
the traitor exhibited to the Saracen, accursed of God, the 
beauties of Edith Plantagenet, that the hound might judge if 
the princely Christian lady were fit to be admitted into the 
!harem of a misbeliever? If I had yonder infidel Ilderim, or 
whatsoever he is called, again in the gripe with which I once 
held him fast as ever hound held hare, never again should he 
at least come on errand disgraceful to the honor of Christian 
king or noble and virtuous maiden. But I — my hours are fast 



136 


THE TALISMAN 


dwindling into minutes ; yet, while I have life and breath, 
something must be done, and speedily.” 

He paused for a few minutes, threw from him his helmet, 
then strode down the hill, and took the road to King Richard’s 
pavilion . 1 


CHAPTER XV 


The feather’d songster, chanticleer 
Had wound his bugle-horn, 

And told the early villager 
The coming of the morn. 

King Edward saw the ruddy streaks 
Of light eclipse the gray, 

And heard the raven’s croaking throat 
Proclaim the fated day. 

“ Thou’rt right,” he said, “ for, by the God 
That sits enthroned on high, 

Charles Bawdwin, and his fellows twain, 

This day shall surely die.” 

Chatterton. ! 

On the evening on which Sir Kenneth assumed his post, 
Richard, after the stormy event which disturbed its tranquillity, ] 
had retired to rest in the plenitude of confidence inspired by his f 
unbounded courage, and the superiority which he had displayed 
in carrying the point he aimed at in presence of the whole \ 
Christian host and its leaders, many of whom, he was aware, f 
regarded in their secret souls the disgrace of the Austrian Duke j 
as a triumph over themselves; so that his pride felt gratified 
that, in prostrating one enemy, he had mortified a hundred. 


. d °7 e l 1 t0 r te the art with which the interest is 

nnlf h t6ned h Ai he mtro< } uc . tl o n of new conditions affecting the fortunes 
and hopes of the young knight. 

tha T Uvm P JK P - Sal of marriage is said to have been founded upon fact, 
the bride being a sister of Richard and the widowed Queen of Naples 
the bridegroom Saladin’s brother. ^apies, 



THE TALISMAN 


137 


Another monarch would have doubled his guards on the 
evening after such a scene, and kept at least a part of his troops 
under arms. But Coeur-de-Lion dismissed, upon the occasion, 
even his ordinary watch, and assigned to his soldiers a donative 
of wine to celebrate his recovery, and to drink to the banner of 
St. George; and his quarter of the camp would have assumed 
a character totally devoid of vigilance and military preparation, 
but that Sir Thomas de Vaux, the Earl of Salisbury, and other 
nobles, took precautions to preserve order and discipline among 
the revellers. 

The physician attended the King from his retiring to bed till 
midnight was past, and twice administered medicine to him 
during that period, always previously observing the quarter of 
heaven occupied by the full moon, whose influences he declared 
to be most sovereign, or most baleful, to the effect of his drugs. 
It was three hours after midnight ere El Hakim withdrew from 
the royal tent, to one which had been pitched for himself and 
his retinue. In his way thither he visited the tent of Sir 
Kenneth of the Leopard, in order to see the condition of his 
I first patient in the Christian camp, old Strauchan, as the knight’s 
! esquire was named. Inquiring there for Sir Kenneth himself, 
i El Hakim learned on what duty he was employed, and probably 
I this information led him to St. George’s Mount, where he found 
him whom he sought in the disastrous circumstances alluded to 
in the last chapter. 

It was about the hour of sunrise, when a slow, armed tread 
was heard approaching the King’s pavilion; and ere De Vaux, 
who slumbered beside his master’s bed as lightly as ever sleep 
sat upon the eyes of a watch-dog, had time to do more than 
arise and say, “Who comes?” the Knight of the Leopard en¬ 
tered the tent, with a deep and devoted gloom seated upon his 
manly features. 

“Whence this bold intrusion, Sir Knight?” said De Vaux, 
sternly, yet in a tone which respected his master’s slumbers. 




138 


THE TALISMAN 


“Hold! De Vaux,” said Richard, awaking on the instant; 
“Sir Kenneth cometh like a good soldier to render an account 
of his guard; to such the general’s tent is ever accessible.” 
Then rising from his slumbering posture, and leaning on his 
elbow, he fixed his large bright eye upon the warrior. “ Speak, j 
Sir Scot; thou comest to tell me of a vigilant, safe, and honor-1 
able watch, dost thou not? The rustling of the folds of the; 
banner of England were enough to guard it, even without the j 
body of such a knight as men hold thee.” 

“As men will hold me no more,” said Sir Kenneth. “My ; 
watch hath neither been vigilant, safe, nor honorable. The| 
banner of England has been carried off.” 

“And thou alive to tell it?” said Richard, in a tone of de¬ 
risive incredulity. “ Away, it cannot be. There is not even a 
scratch on thy face. Why dost thou stand thus mute ? Speak, 
the truth; it is ill jesting with a king, yet I will forgive thee 
if thou hast lied.” 

“Lied, Sir King!” returned the unfortunate knight, withi 
fierce emphasis, and one glance of fire from his eye, bright and, 
transient as the flash from the cold and stony flint. “But this 
also must be endured. I have spoken the truth.” 1 

“ By God and by St. George ! ” said the King, bursting into 
fury, which, however, he instantly checked. “De Vaux, go, 
view the spot. This fever has disturbed his brain. This can-, 
not be. The man’s courage is proof. It cannot be ! Go 
speedily; or send, if thou wilt not go.” 

The King was interrupted by Sir Henry Neville, who came,, 
breathless, to say that the banner was gone, and the knight whoj 
guarded it overpowered, and most probably murdered, as there \ 
was a pool of blood where the banner-spear lay shivered. * 1 

“But whom do I see here?” said Neville, his eyes suddenly| 
resting upon Sir Kenneth. 

“ A traitor,” said the King, starting to his feet, and seizing 
the curtal axe, which was ever near his bed — “a traitor, whoml 1 



THE TALISMAN 


139 


thou shalt see die a traitor’s death.” And he drew back the 
weapon as in act to strike. 

Colorless, but firm as a marble statue, the Scot stood before 
him, with his bare head uncovered by any protection, his eyes 
cast down to the earth, his lips scarcely moving, yet muttering 
probably in prayer. Opposite to him, and within the due reach 
for a blow, stood King Richard, his large person wrapt in the 
folds of his camiscia, or ample gown of linen, except where the 
violence of his action had flung the covering from his right arm, 
shoulder, and a part of his breast, leaving to view a specimen of 
a frame which might have merited his Saxon predecessors’ 
epithet of Ironside . 1 He stood for an instant, prompt to strike; 
then sinking the head of the weapon towards the ground, he 
exclaimed: “But there was blood, Neville — there was blood 
upon the place. Hark thee, Sir Scot, brave thou wert once, for 
I have seen thee fight. Say thou hast slain two of the thieves 
in defence of the standard — say but one — say thou hast struck 
! but a good blow in our behalf, and get thee out of the camp 
i with thy life and thy infamy ! ” 

“You have called me liar, my Lord King,” replied Kenneth, 
firmly; “ and therein, at least, you have done me wrong. 
Know, that there was no blood shed in defence of the stand¬ 
ard save that of a poor hound, which, more faithful than his 
master, defended the charge which he deserted.” 

“ Now, by St. George ! ” said Richard, again heaving up his 
arm. But De Vaux threw himself between the King and the 
| object of his vengeance, and spoke with the blunt truth of his 
I character : “ My liege, this must not be — here — nor by your 
i own hand. It is enough of folly for one night and day to have 
entrusted your banner to a Scot; said I not they were ever fair 
and falsg ? ” 

“ ThOu didst, De Vaux ; thou wast right, and. I confess it,” 

1 Edmund Ironsides, to whom the reference is made, and who died in 
the year 1016, was so named on account of his strength and courage. 



140 


THE TALISMAN 


said Richard. “I should have known him better — I should 
have remembered how the fox William deceived me touching 
this Crusade.” 

“ My lord,” said Sir Kenneth, “ William of Scotland never 
deceived ; but circumstances prevented his bringing his forces.” 

“ Peace, shameless ! ” said the King; “ thou sulliest the name 
of a prince, even by speaking it. And yet, De Yaux, it is 
strange,” he added, “to see the bearing of the man. Coward 
or traitor he must be, yet he abode the blow of Richard Plan- 
tagenet, as our arm had been raised to lay knighthood on his 
shoulder. Had he shown the slightest sign of fear — had but 
a joint trembled, or an eyelid quivered—I had shattered his 
head like a crystal goblet. But I cannot strike where there is 
neither fear nor resistance.” 

There was a pause. 

“ My lord-” said Kenneth. 

“Ha ! ” replied Richard, interrupting him, “hast thou found 
thy speech ? Ask grace from Heaven, but none from me, for 
England is dishonored through thy fault; and wert thou mine 
own and only brother, there is no pardon for thy fault.” 

“ I speak not to demand grace of mortal man,” said the Scot; 
“it is in your Grace’s pleasure to give or refuse me time for 
Christian shrift; if man denies it, may God grant me the abso¬ 
lution which I would otherwise ask of His church! But 
whether I die on the instant or half an hour hence, I equally 
beseech your Grace for one moment’s opportunity to speak that 
to your royal person which highly concerns your fame as a 
Christian king.” 

“Say on,” said the King, making no doubt that he was 
about to hear some confession concerning the loss of the 
banner. 

“What I have to speak,” said Sir Kenneth, “touches the 
royalty of England, and must be said to no ears but thine 
own.” 



THE TALISMAN 


141 


“ Begone with yourselves, sirs,” said the King to Neville and 
De Vaux. 

The first obeyed, hut the latter would not stir from the 
King’s presence. 

“ If you said I was in the right,” replied De Vaux to his 
sovereign, “ I will be treated as one should be who hath been 
found to be right — that is, I will have my own will. I leave 
you not with this false Scot.” 

“ How ! De Vaux,” said Richard, angrily, and stamping 
slightly, “ darest thou not venture our person with one 
traitor? ” 

“It is in vain you frown and stamp, my lord,” said De 
Vaux; “I venture not a sick man with a sound one, a naked 
man with one armed in proof.” 

[ “It matters not,” said the Scottish knight; “I seek no ex¬ 
cuse to put off time, I will speak in presence of the Lord of 
I Gilsland. He is good lord and true.” 

“But half an hour since,” said De Vaux, with a groan, im¬ 
plying a mixture of sorrow and vexation, “ and I had said as 
much for thee.” 

“There is treason around you, King of England,” continued 
Sir Kenneth. 

“ It may well be as thou say’st,” replied Richard, “ I have a 
pregnant example.” 

“Treason that will injure thee more deeply than the loss 
of an hundred banners in a pitched field. The — the” — Sir 
Kenneth hesitated, and at length continued, in a lower tone — 
“ the Lady Edith-” 

“ Ha ! ” said the King, drawing himself suddenly into a state 
of haughty attention, and fixing his eye firmly on the supposed 
criminal. “What of her? — what of her? — what has she to 
do with this matter ? ” 

“My lord,” said the Scot, “there is a scheme on foot to dis¬ 
grace your royal lineage, by bestowing the hand of the Lady Edith 




142 


THE TALISMAN 


on the Saracen Soldan, and thereby to purchase a peace most 
dishonorable to Christendom, by an alliance most shameful to i 
England.” 

This communication had precisely the contrary elfect from 
that which Sir Kenneth expected. Richard Plantagenet was 
one of those who, in Iago’s 1 words, would not serve Cod be¬ 
cause it was the devil who bade him: advice or information 
often affected him less according to its real import than through 
the tinge which it took from the supposed character and views j 
of those by whom it was communicated. Unfortunately, the 
mention of his relative’s name renewed his recollection of what 
he had considered as extreme presumption in the Knight of the 
Leopard, even when he stood high in the rolls of chivalry, but 
which, in his present condition, appeared an insult sufficient to 
drive the fiery monarch into a frenzy of passion. 

“ Silence,” he said, “ infamous and audacious ! By Heaven, 1 
I will have thy tongue torn out with hot pincers, for mention¬ 
ing the very name of a noble Christian damsel. Know, degen¬ 
erate traitor, that I was already aware to what height thou 
hadst dared to raise thine eyes, and endured it, though it were : 
insolence, even when thou hadst cheated us — for thou art all 
a deceit — into holding thee as of some name and fame. But 
now, with lips blistered with the confession of thine own dis¬ 
honor — that thou shouldst now dare to name our noble kins¬ 
woman as one in whose fate thou hast part or interest! What 
is it to thee if she marry Saracen or Christian 1 What is it to 
thee if, in a camp where princes turn cowards by day and rob¬ 
bers by right — where brave knights turn to paltry deserters 
and traitors—what is it, I say, to thee or any one, if I should 
please to ally myself to truth and to valor in the person of 
Saladin 1 ” . 

“ Little to me, indeed, to whom all the world will soon be 
as nothing,” answered Sir Kenneth, boldly; “ but were I now 
1 See Othello. 






THE TALISMAN 


143 


! stretched on the rack, I would tell thee, that what I have said 
is much to thine own conscience and thine own fame. I tell 
thee, Sir King, that if thou dost but in thought entertain the 
purpose of wedding thy kinswoman, the Lady Edith-” 

“ Name her not — and for an instant think not of her,” said 
the King, again straining the curtal axe in his gripe, until the 
muscles started above his brawny arm, like cordage formed by 
| the ivy around the limb of an oak. 

“ Not name — not think of her ! ” answered Sir Kenneth, his 
: spirits, stunned as they were by self-depression, beginning to 
i recover their elasticity from this species of controversy. “Now, 
by the Cross, on which I place my hope, her name shall be the 
last word in my mouth, her image the last thought in my mind. 
Try thy boasted strength on this bare brow, and see if thou 
!- canst prevent my purpose.” 

“ He will drive me mad ! ” said Richard, who, in his despite, 
was once more staggered in his purpose by the dauntless deter¬ 
mination of the criminal. 

Ere Thomas of Gilsland could reply, some bustle was heard 
without, and the arrival of the Queen was announced from the 
outer part of the pavilion. 

“Detain her—detain her, Neville,'” cried the King; “this 
is no sight for women. Fie, that I have suffered such a paltry 
traitor to chafe me thus! Away with him, De Yaux,” he 
whispered, “ through the back entrance of our tent; coop him 
up close, and answer for his safe custody with your life. And 
harkye, he is presently to die; let him have a ghostly father — 
we would not kill soul and body. And stay, hark thee, we 
will not have him dishonored: he shall die knightlike, in his 
belt and spurs; for if his treachery be as black as hell, his 
boldness may match that of the devil himself.” 

De Vaux, right glad, if the truth may be guessed, that the 
scene ended without Richard’s descending to the unkingly act 
of himself slaying an unresisting prisoner, made haste to re- 




144 


THE TALISMAN 


move Sir Kenneth by a private issue to a separate tent, where 
he was disarmed and put in fetters for security. De Vaux 
looked on with a steady and melancholy attention, while the 
provost’s officers, to whom Sir Kenneth was now committed, 
took these severe precautions. 

When they were ended, he said solemnly to the unhappy 
criminal: “It is King Richard’s pleasure that you die unde¬ 
graded, without mutilation of your body or shame to your 
arms, and that your head be severed from the trunk by the 
sword of the executioner.” 

“ It is kind,” said the knight, in a low and rather submis¬ 
sive tone of voice, as one who received an unexpected favor; 
“my family will not then hear the worst of the tale. Oh mv 
father — my father ! ” 

This muttered invocation did not escape the blunt but kindly- 
natured Englishman, and he brushed the back of his large hand 
over his rough features, ere he could proceed. 

“It is Richard of England’s farther pleasure,” he said, at 
length, “that you have speech with a holy man, and I have 
met on the passage hither with a Carmelite friar, who may fit 
you for your passage. He waits without, until you are in a 
frame of mind to receive him.” 

“ Let it be instantly,” said the knight. “ In this also Rich¬ 
ard is kind. I cannot be more fit to see the good father at 
any time than now; for life and I have taken farewell, as two 
travellers who have arrived at the crossway, where their roads 
separate.” 

“ It is well,” said De Vaux, slowly and solemnly; « for it 
irks me somewhat to say that which sums my message. It is 
King Richard’s pleasure that you prepare for instant death.” 

“God’s pleasure and the King’s be done,” replied the knight, 
patiently. “ I neither contest the justice of the sentence nor 
desire delay of the execution.” 

De Vaux began to leave the tent, but very slowly; paused 


THE TALISMAN 


145 


at the door, and looked back at the Scot, from whose aspect 
thoughts of the world seemed banished, as if he was composing 
himself into deep devotion. The feelings of the stout English 
baron were in general none of the most acute, and yet, on the 
present occasion, his sympathy overpowered him in an unusual 
manner. He came hastily back to the bundle of reeds on 
which the captive lay, took one of his fettered hands, and 
said, with as much softness as his rough voice was capable of 
expressing: “Sir Kenneth, thou art yet young — thou hast a 
father. My Ralph, whom I left training his little Galloway 
nag on the banks of the Irthing, 1 may one day attain thy years; 
and, but for last night, would to God I saw his youth bear 
such promise as thine ! Can nothing be said or done in thy 
behalf ? ” 

“ Nothing,” was the melancholy answer. “ I have deserted 
my charge — the banner entrusted to me is lost. When the 
headsman and block are prepared, the head and trunk are 
ready to part company.” 

“ Nay, then, God have mercy ! ” said De Yaux; “ yet would 
I rather than my best horse I had taken that watch myself. 
There is mystery in it, young man, as a plain man may descry, 
though he cannot see through it. Cowardice ? pshaw! No 
coward ever fought as I have seen thee do. Treachery ? I can¬ 
not think traitors die in their treason so calmly. Thou hast 
been trained from thy post by some deep guile — some well- 
devised stratagem : the cry of some distressed maiden has 
caught thine ear, or the laughed look of some merry one has 
taken thine eye. Never blush for it, we have all been led aside 
by such gear. Come, I pray thee, make a clean conscience of 
it to me, instead of the priest. Richard is merciful when his 
mood is abated. Hast thou nothing to entrust to me ? ” 

The unfortunate knight turned his face from the kind war¬ 
rior, and answered, “ Nothing.” 

1 A river of Cumberland, England. 

L 


146 


THE TALISMAN 


And De Vaux, who had exhausted his topics of persuasion, 
arose and left the tent, with folded arms, and in melancholy 
deeper than he thought the occasion merited, even angry with 
himself to find that so simple a matter as the death of a Scot- 
tishman could affect him so nearly. 

“ Yet,” as he said to himself, “ though the rough-footed 
knaves be our enemies in Cumberland, in Palestine one almost 
considers them as brethren.” 


CHAPTER XVI 

’ Tis not her sense — for sure, in that 
There’s nothing more than common ; 

And all her wit is only chat, 

Like any other woman. 

Song. 

The high-born Berengaria, daughter of Sanchez, King of 
Navarre, and the Queen-Consort of the heroic Richard, was 
accounted one of the most beautiful women of the period. 
Her form was slight, though exquisitely moulded. She was 
graced with a complexion not common in her country, a pro¬ 
fusion of fair hair, and features so extremely juvenile as to 
make her look several years younger than she really was, 
though in reality she was not above one-and-twenty. Perhaps 
it was under the consciousness of this extremely juvenile 
appearance that she affected, or at least practised, a little 
childish petulance and wilfulness of manner, not unbefitting, 
she might suppose, a youthful bride, whose rank and age gave 
her a right to have her fantasies indulged and attended to. 
She was by nature perfectly good-humored, and if her due 
share of admiration and homage (in her opinion a very large 
one) was duly resigned to her, no one could possess better 
temper or a more friendly disposition; but then, like all des- 


THE TALISMAN 


147 


pots, the more power that was voluntarily yielded to her, the 
more she desired to extend her sway. She was confident in 
her husband’s favor, in her high rank, and in her supposed 
power to make good whatever such pranks might cost others. 
In a word, she gambolled with the freedom of a young lioness, 
who is unconscious of the weight of her own paws when laid on 
those whom she sports with. 

The Queen Berengaria loved her husband passionately, but 
she feared the loftiness and roughness of his character, and as 
she felt herself not to be his match in intellect, was not much 
pleased to see that he would often talk with Edith Plantagenet 
in preference to herself, simply because he found more amuse¬ 
ment in her conversation, a more comprehensive understand¬ 
ing, and a more noble cast of thoughts and sentiments, than 
his beautiful consort exhibited. Berengaria did not hate 
Edith on this account, far less meditate her any harm; for, 
allowing for some selfishness, her character was, on the whole, 
innocent and generous. But the ladies of her train, sharp- 
sighted in such matters, had for some time discovered that a 
poignant jest at the expense of the Lady Edith was a specific 
for relieving her Grace of England’s low sjnrits, and the dis¬ 
covery saved their imagination much toil. 

There was something ungenerous in this, because the Lady 
Edith was understood to be an orphan; and though she was 
called Plantagenet, and the Fair Maid of Anjou, and admitted 
by Richard to certain privileges only granted to the royal 
family, and held her place in the circle accordingly, yet few 
knew, and none acquainted with the court of England ventured 
to ask, in what exact degree of relationship she stood to Coeur- 
de-Lion. She had come with Eleanor, the celebrated Queen- 
Mother of England, and joined Richard at Messina, as one of 
the ladies destined to attend on Berengaria, whose nuptials 
then approached. Richard treated his kinswoman with much 
respectful observance, and the Queen made her her most con- 


148 


THE TALISMAN 


stant attendant, and, even in despite of the petty jealousy 
which we have observed, treated her, generally, with suitable 
respect. 

The ladies of the household had, for a long time, no further 
advantage over Edith than might be afforded by an opportunity 
of censuring a less artfully-disposed head-attire or an unbe¬ 
coming robe; for the lady was judged to be inferior in these 
mysteries. The silent devotion of the Scottish knight did not, 
indeed, pass unnoticed : his liveries, his cognizances, his feats 
of arms, his mottoes and devices, were nearly watched, and 
occasionally made the subject of a passing jest. But then 
came the pilgrimage of the Queen and her ladies to Engaddi — 
a journey which the Queen had undertaken under a vow for 
the recovery of her husband’s health, and which she had been 
encouraged to carry into effect by the Archbishop of Tyre for 
a political purpose. It was then, and in the chapel at that 
holy place, connected from above with a Carmelite nunnery, 
from beneath with the cell of the anchorite, that one of the 
Queen’s attendants remarked that secret sign of intelligence 
which Edith had made to her lover, and failed not instantly to 
communicate it to her Majesty. The Queen returned from 
her pilgrimage enriched with this admirable recipe against dul- 
ness or ennui , and her train was at the same time augmented 
by a present of two wretched dwarfs from the dethroned 
Queen of Jerusalem, as deformed and as crazy (the excellence 
of that unhappy species) as any queen could have desired. 
One of Berengaria’s idle amusements had been to try the effect 
of the sudden appearance of such ghastly and fantastic forms 
on the nerves of the knight when left alone in the chapel; but 
the jest had been lost by the composure of the Scot and the 
interference of the anchorite. She had now tried another, of 
which the consequences promised to be more serious. 

The ladies again met after Sir Kenneth had retired from 
the tent; and the Queen, at first little moved by Edith’s angry 


THE TALISMAN 


149 


expostulations, only replied to her by upbraiding her prudery, 
and by indulging her wit at the expense of the garb, nation, 
and, above all, the poverty, of the Knight of the Leopard, in 
which she displayed a good deal of playful malice, mingled 
with some humor, until Edith was compelled to carry her 
anxiety to her separate apartment. But when, in the morn¬ 
ing, a female, whom Edith had entrusted to make inquiry, 
brought word that the standard was missing, and its champion 
vanished, she burst into the Queen’s apartment, and implored 
her to rise and proceed to the King’s tent without delay, and 
use her powerful mediation to prevent the evil consequences 
of her jest. 

The Queen, frightened in her turn, cast, as usual, the blame 
' °f her own folly on those around her, and endeavored to com¬ 
fort Edith's* grief, and appease her displeasure, by a thousand 
i inconsistent arguments. She was sure no harm had chanced: 

the knight was sleeping, she fancied, after his night-watch. 

| What though, for fear of the King’s displeasure, he had 
deserted with the standard — it was but a piece of silk, and 
j he but a needy adventurer; or, if he was put under warding 
| for a time, she would soon get the King to pardon him — it 
was but waiting to let Richard’s mood pass away. 

Thus she continued talking thick and fast, and heaping to¬ 
gether all sorts of inconsistencies, with the vain expectation of 
persuading both Edith and herself that no harm could come of 
I a frolic which in her heart she now bitterly repented. But 
| while Edith in vain strove to intercept this torrent of idle talk, 

I she caught the eye of one of the ladies who entered the Queen’s 
apartment. There was death in her look of affright and hor- 
! ror, and Edith, at the first glance of her countenance, had sunk 
at once on the earth, had not strong necessity, and her own 
elevation of character, enabled her to maintain at least external 
| composure. 

“ Madam,” she said to the Queen, “ lose not another word in 




150 


THE TALISMAN 


speaking, but save life; if, indeed,” she added, her voice chok¬ 
ing as she said it, “ life may yet be saved.” 

“Indeed, madam,” said the terrified attendant, “the Lady 
Edith speaks truth. Up, madam, and let us to King Richard’s 
tent, and beg the poor gentleman’s life.” j 

“ I will go — I will go instantly,” said the Queen, rising and 
trembling excessively ; while her women, in as great confusion 
as herself, were unable to render her those duties which were 
indispensable to her levee. Calm, composed, only pale as 
death, Edith ministered to the Queen with her own hand, and 
alone supplied the deficiencies of her numerous attendants. 

“ How you wait, wenches ! ” said the Queen, not able even 
then to forget frivolous distinctions. “ Suffer ye the Lady 
Edith to do the duties of your attendance ? Seest thou, Edith, ; 
they can nothing do : I shall never be attired in time. We will 
send for the Archbishop of Tyre, and employ him as a mediator.” j 
“ Oh no —no ! ” exclaimed Edith. “ Go yourself, madam ; 
you have done the evil, do you confer the remedy.” 

“ I will go — I will go,” said the Queen; “ but if Richard be 
in his mood, I dare not speak to him; he will kill me ! ” 

“Yet go, gracious madam,” said the Lady Calista, who best 
knew her mistress’s temper; “ not a lion, in his fury, could look 
upon such a face and form, and retain so much as an angry 
thought, far less a love-true knight like the royal Richard, to 
whom your slightest word would be a command.” 

“ Dost thou think so, Calista? ” said the Queen. “ Ah, thou 
little knowest — yet I will go. But see you here — what means, 
this? You have bedizened 1 me in green, a color he detests. 
Lo you ! let me have a blue robe, and — search for the ruby 
carcanet, which was part of the King of Cyprus’s ransom; it is 
either in the steel casket or somewhere else.” 

“ This, and a man’s life at stake ! ” said Edith, indignantly : 
“ it passes human patience. Remain at your ease, madam ; 1 
1 Bedizened: to dress in a tawdry manner. 





THE TALISMAN 


151 


will go to King Richard. I am a party interested; I will know* 
if the honor of a poor maiden of his blood is to be so far 
tampered with, that her name shall be abused to train a brave 
I gentleman from his duty, bring him within the compass of death 
and infamy, and make, at the same time, the glory of England 
a laughing-stock to the whole Christian army.” 

At this unexpected burst of passion, Berengaria listened with 
an almost stupefied look of fear and wonder. But as Edith was 
: about to leave the tent, she exclaimed, though faintly, “ Stop her 
— stop her ! ” 

“You must indeed stop, noble Lady Edith,” said Calista, 
taking her arm gently ; “ and you, royal madam, I am sure, will 
go, and without farther dallying. If the Lady Edith goes 
alone to the King, he will be dreadfully incensed, nor will it be 
one life that will stay his fury.” 

“ I will go — I will go,” said the Queen, yielding to necessity; 
and Edith reluctantly halted to wait her movements. 

They were now as speedy as she could have desired. The 
Queen hastily wrapped herself in a large loose mantle, which 
covered all inaccuracies of the toilet. In this guise, attended 
by Edith and her women, and preceded and followed by a few 
officers and men-at-arms, she hastened to the tent of her lion¬ 
like husband. 


152 


THE TALISMAN 


CHAPTER XVII 

Were every hair upon his head a life, 

And every life were to be supplicated 
By numbers equal to those hairs quadrupled, 

Life after life should out like waning stars 
Before the daybreak ; or as festive lamps, 

Which have lent lustre to the midnight revel, 

Each after each are quench’d when guests depart! 

Old Play. 


The entrance of Queen Berengaria into the interior of Rich¬ 
ard s pavilion was withstood, in the most respectful and rever¬ 
ential manner indeed, but still withstood, by the chamberlains 
who watched in the outer tent. She could hear the stern com¬ 
mand of the King from within, prohibiting their entrance. 

“ You see,” said the Queen, appealing to Edith, as if she had 
exhausted all means of intercession in her power — “ I knew 
it; the King will not receive us.” 

At the same time, they heard Richard speak to some one 
within : “ Go, speed thine office quickly, sirrah, for in that 
consists thy mercy; ten byzants if thou deal’st on him at one 
blow. And, hark thee, villain , 1 observe if his cheek loses 
color or his eye falters; mark me the smallest twitch of the 
features or wink of the eyelid; I love to know how brave souls 
meet death.” 

If he sees my blade waved aloft without shrinking, he is 
the first ever did so,” answered a harsh, deep voice, which a 
sense of unusual awe had softened into a sound much lower i 
than its usual coarse tones. 

Edith could remain silent no longer. “ If your Grace,” she 
said to th e Queen, “ make not your own way, I make it for you ; 


i 1 forra 1 erl y meant a bondsman or servant, from the fact o] 

holding land under feudal tenure. It was not a term of reproach. 




THE TALISMAN 


153 


or if not for your Majesty, for myself, at least. Chamberlains, 
the Queen demands to see King Richard — the wife to speak 
with her husband.” 

“Noble lady,” said the officer, lowering his wand of office, 
“ it grieves me to gainsay you; but his Majesty is busied on 
matters of life and death.” 

“ And we seek also to speak with him on matters of life and 
death,” said Edith. “I will make entrance for your Grace.” 
And putting aside the chamberlain with one hand, she laid hold 
on the curtain with the other. 

“ I dare not gainsay her Majesty’s pleasure,” said the cham¬ 
berlain, yielding to the vehemence of the fair petitioner; and, 
as he gave way, the Queen found herself obliged to enter the 
apartment of Richard. 

The monarch was lying on his couch, and at some distance, 
as awaiting his farther commands, stood a man whose profession 
if was not difficult to conjecture. He was clothed in a jerkin 
of red cloth, which reached scantly below the shoulders, leaving 
the arms bare from about half-way above the elbow, and, as an 
upper garment, he wore, when about as at present to betake 
himself to his dreadful office, a coat or tabard without sleeves, 
something like that of a herald, made of dressed bull’s hide, 
and stained in the front with many a broad spot and speckle 
of dull crimson. The jerkin, and the tabard over it, reached 
the knee, and the nether stocks, or covering of the legs, were of 
the same leather which composed the tabard. A cap of rough 
shag served to hide the upper part of a visage which, like that 
of a screech-owl, seemed desirous to conceal itself from light; 
the lower part of the face being obscured by a huge red beard, 
mingling with shaggy locks of the same color. What features 
were seen were stern and misanthropical. The man’s figure 
was short, strongly made, with a neck like a bull, very broad 
shoulders, arms of great and disproportioned length, a huge 
square trunk, and thick bandy legs. This truculent official 


154 


THE TALISMAN 


leant on a sword the blade of which was nearly four feet and a 
half in length, while the handle of twenty inches, surrounded 
by a ring of lead plummets to counterpoise the weight of such 
a blade, rose considerably above the man’s head, as he rested 
his arm upon its hilt, waiting for King Richard’s farther 
directions. 

On the sudden entrance of the ladies, Richard, who was then 
lying on his couch, with his face towards the entrance, and rest¬ 
ing on his elbow as he spoke to his grisly attendant, flung him¬ 
self hastily, as if displeased and surprised, to the other side, 
turning his back to the Queen and the females of her train, and 
drawing around him the covering of his couch, which by his 
own choice, or more probably the flattering selection of his . 
chamberlains, consisted of two large lion’s skins, dressed in 
Venice with such admirable skill that they seemed softer than 
the hide of the deer. 

Berengaria, such as we have described her, knew well— • 
what woman knows not ? — her own road to victory. After a 
hurried glance of undisguised and unaffected terror at the ghastly 
companion of her husband’s secret counsels, she rushed at once ; 
to the side of Richard’s couch, dropped on her knees, flung her : 
mantle from her shoulder, showing, as they hung down at their I 
full length, her beautiful golden tresses, and while her countenance 
seemed like the sun bursting through a cloud, yet bearing on 
its pallid front traces that its splendors have been obscured, | 
she seized upon the right hand of the King, which, as he 
assumed his wonted posture, had been employed in dragging 
the covering of his couch, and gradually pulling it to her with 
a force which was resisted, though but faintly, she possessed 
herself of that arm, the prop of Christendom and the dread of 
Heathenesse, and, imprisoning its strength in both her little 
fairy hands, she bent upon it her brow, and united it to her lips. ! 

“ What needs this, Berengaria?” said Richard, his head still 
averted, but his hand remaining under her control. 



• THE TALISMAN 155 

“Send away that man — his look kills me!” muttered 
Berengaria. 

“ Begone, sirrah,” said Richard, still without looking round, 
“what wait’st thou for? art thou fit to look on these ladies?” 

“ Your Highness’s pleasure touching the head,” said the man. 

“Out with thee, dog!” answered Richard—“a Christian 
burial.” 

The man disappeared after casting a look upon the beautiful 
Queen in her deranged dress and natural loveliness, with a 
smile of admiration more hideous in its expression than even his 
usual scowl of cynical hatred against humanity. 

“ And now, foolish wench, what wishest thou ? ” said Rich¬ 
ard, turning slowly and half-reluctantly round to his royal 
suppliant. 

But it was not in nature for any one, far less in an admirer 
of beauty like Richard, to whom it stood only in the second 
rank to glory, to look without emotion on the countenance and 
the tremor of a creature so beautiful as Berengaria, or to feel, 
without sympathy, that her lips, her brow, were on his hand, 
and that it was wetted by her tears. By degrees, he turned 
on her his manly countenance, with the softest expression of 
which his large blue eye, which so often gleamed with insufferable 
light, was capable. Caressing her fair head, and mingling his 
large fingers in her beautiful and dishevelled locks, he raised 
and tenderly kissed the cherub countenance which seemed 
desirous to hide itself in his hand. The robust form, the broad, 
noble brow, and majestic looks, the naked arm and shoulder, 
the lion’s skin among which he lay, and the fair fragile 
feminine creature that kneeled by his side, might have served 
for a model of Hercules 1 reconciling himself, after a quarrel, to 
his wife Dejanira. 

“ And, once more, what seeks the lady of my heart in her 
knight’s pavilion, at this early and unwonted hour ? ” 

1 See Greek mythology. 



156 


THE TALISMAN ■ 


“ Pardon, my most gracious liege — pardon ! ” said the Queen, 
whose fears began again to unfit her for the duty of intercessor. 

“ Pardon ! for what ? ” asked the King. 

“ First, for entering your royal presence too boldly and un¬ 
advisedly -” She stopped. 

“ Thou too boldly ! the sun might as well ask pardon because 
his rays entered the windows of some wretch’s dungeon. But 
I was busied with work unfit for thee to witness, my gentle one, 
and I was unwilling, besides, that thou shouldst risk thy pre¬ 
cious health where sickness has been so lately rife.” 

“ But thou art now well ? ” said the Queen, still delaying the 
communication which she feared to make. 

“ Well enough to break a lance on the bold crest of that 
champion who shall refuse to acknowledge thee the fairest dame 
in Christendom.” 

“ Thou wilt not then refuse me one boon — only one — only 
a poor life ? ” 

“ Ha ! proceed,” said King Richard, bending his brows. 

“ This unhappy Scottish knight,” murmured the Queen. 

“ Speak not of him, madam,” exclaimed Richard, sternly; 
“ he dies — his doom is fixed.” 

“Nay, my royal liege and love, ’tis but a silken banner 
neglected; Berengaria will give thee another broidered with 
her own hand, and rich as ever dallied with the wind. Every 
pearl I have shall go to bedeck it, and with every pearl I will 
drop a tear of thankfulness to my generous knight.” 

“Thou know’st not what thou say’st,” said the King, inter¬ 
rupting her in anger. “ Pearls ! can all the pearls of the East 
atone for a speck upon England’s honor — all the tears that 
ever woman’s eye wept wash away a stain on Richard’s fame 1 
Go to, madam, know your place, and your time, and your sphere. 
At present we have duties in which you cannot be our partner.” 

“ Thou hear’st, Edith,” whispered the Queen, “ we shall but 
incense him.” 



THE TALISMAN 


157 


“ Be it so,” said Edith, stepping forward. “ My lord — I, 
your own kinswoman, crave you for justice rather than mercy; 
and to the cry of justice the ears of a monarch should be open 
at every time, place, and circumstance.” 

“ Ha ! our cousin Edith ! ” said Richard, rising and sitting 
upright on the side of his couch, covered with his long camiscia. 
“ She speaks ever kinglike, and kinglike will I answer her, so 
she bring no request unworthy herself or me.” 

The beauty of Edith was a more intellectual and less volup¬ 
tuous cast than that of the Queen ; but impatience and anxiety 
had given her countenance a glow which it sometimes wanted, 
and her mien had a character of energetic dignity that imposed 
silence for a moment even on Richard himself, who, to judge 
by his looks, would willingly have interrupted her. 

“My lord,” she said, “this good knight, whose blood you 
are about to spill, hath done, in his time, service to Christen¬ 
dom. He hath fallen from his duty through a snare set for him 
in mere folly and idleness of spirit. A message sent to him in 
the name of one who — why should I not speak it? — it was 
in my own — induced him for an instant to leave his post. And 
what knight in the Christian camp might not have thus far 
transgressed at command of a maiden who, poor howsoever in 
other qualities, hath yet the blood of Plantagenet in her veins ? ” 

“ And you saw him, then, cousin ? ” replied the King, biting 
his lips to keep down his passion. 

“ I did, my liege,” said Edith. “ It is no time to explain 
wherefore: I am here neither to exculpate myself nor to blame 
others.” 

“ And where did you do him such a grace ? ” 

“ In the tent of her Majesty the Queen.” 

“ Of our royal consort! ” said Richard. “ Now by Heaven, 
by St. George of England, and every other saint that treads 
its crystal floor, this is too audacious ! I have noticed and 
overlooked this warrioPs insolent admiration of one so far above 


158 


THE TALISMAN 


him, and I grudged him not that one of my blood should shec 
from her high-born sphere such influence as the sun bestows or 
the world beneath. But, heaven and earth! that you shoulc 
have admitted him to an audience by night, in the very tent of 
our royal consort, and dare to offer this as an excuse for his 
disobedience and desertion ! By my fathers’ soul, Edith, thou 
shalt rue this thy life long in a monastery ! ” 

“My liege,” said Edith, “your greatness licenses tyranny. 
My honor, Lord King, is as little touched as yours, and my 
Lady the Queen can prove it if she thinks fit. But I have 
already said, I am not here to excuse myself or inculpate 
others. I ask you but to extend to one whose fault was com¬ 
mitted under strong temptation that mercy which even you 
yourself, Lord King, must one day supplicate at a higher tri¬ 
bunal, and for faults, perhaps, less venial.” 

“ Can this be Edith Plantagenet ? ” said the King, bitterly — 
“Edith Plantagenet, the wise and the noble? Or is it some! 
lovesick woman, who cares not for her fame in comparison of I 
the life of her paramour? Now, by King Henry’s soul! little 
hinders but I order thy minion’s skull to be brought from the 
gibbet, and fixed as a perpetual ornament by the crucifix in thy 
cell.” i 

“ And if thou dost send it from the gibbet to be placed for- 1 
ever in my sight,” said Edith, “I will say it is a relic of a 
good knight, cruelly and unworthily done to death by — (she 
checked herself) — by one of whom I shall only say, he should 
have known better how to reward chivalry. Minion call’st thou 
him ? ” she continued, with increasing vehemence. “ He was 
indeed my lover, and a most true one; but never sought the 
grace from me by look or word, contented with such humble 
observance as men pay to the saints. And the good —the 
valiant — the faithful must die for this ! ” 

“Oh, peace —peace, for pity’s sake,” whispered the Queen, 
“ you do but offend him more ! ” 




THE TALISMAN 


159 


“I care not,” said Edith : “the spotless virgin fears not the 
raging lion. Let him work his will on this worthy knight. 
Edith, for whom he dies, will know how to weep his memory: 
to me no one shall speak more of politic alliances, to be sanc¬ 
tioned with this poor hand. I could not— I would not — have 
been his bride living — our degrees were too distant. But death 
unites the high and the low: I am henceforward the spouse of 
the grave.” 

The King was about to answer with much anger, when a 
Carmelite monk entered the apartment hastily, his head and 
person muffled in the long mantle and hood of striped cloth of 
the coarsest texture which distinguished his order, and, fling¬ 
ing himself on his knees before the King, conjured him, by 
every holy word and sign, to stop the execution. 

“Now, by both sword and sceptre,” said Richard, “the 
world are leagued to drive me mad! Fools, women, and 
monks cross me at every step. How comes he to live still ? ” 

“My gracious liege,” said the monk, “I entreated of the 
Lord of Gilsland to stay the execution until I had thrown 
myself at your royal-” 

“ And he was wilful enough to grant thy request ? ” said the 
King ; “ but it is of a piece with his wonted obstinacy. And 
what is it thou hast to say ? Speak, in the fiend’s name ! ” 

“ My lord, there is a weighty secret — but it rests under the 
seal of confession — I dare not tell or even whisper it; but I 
swear to thee by my holy order, by the habit which I wear, 
by the blessed Elias, our founder, even him who was translated 
without suffering the ordinary pangs of mortality, that this 
youth hath divulged to me a secret which, if I might confide 
it to thee, would utterly turn thee from thy bloody purpose in 
regard to him.” 

“Good father,” said Richard, “ that I reverence the church, 
let the arms which I now wear for her sake bear witness. 
Give me to know this secret, and I will do what shall seem 




160 


THE TALISMAN 


fitting in the matter. But I am no blind Bayard, 1 to take a 
leap in the dark under the stroke of a pair of priestly spurs.” 

“My lord,” said the holy man, throwing back his cowl and 
upper vesture, and discovering under the latter a garment of 
goat-skin, and from beneath the former a visage so wildly 
wasted by climate, fast, and penance as to resemble rather the 
apparition of an animated skeleton than a human face, “ for 
twenty years have I macerated this miserable body in the 
caverns of Engaddi, doing penance for a great crime. Think 
you I, who am dead to the world, would contrive a falsehood 
to endanger my own soul, or that one bound by the most 
sacred oaths to the contrary — one such as I, who have but one 
longing wish connected with earth, to wit, the rebuilding of 
our Christian Zion — would betray the secrets of the confes¬ 
sional? Both are alike abhorrent to my very soul.” 

“ So,” answered the King, “ thou art that hermit of whom 
men speak so much? Thou art, I confess, like enough to 
those spirits which walk in dry places, but Richard fears no 
hobgoblins; and thou art he, too, as I bethink me, to whom 
the Christian princes sent this very criminal to open a com¬ 
munication with the Soldan, even while I, who ought to have 
been first consulted, lay on my sick-bed ? Thou and they 
may content themselves, I will not put my neck into the loop 
of a Carmelite’s girdle. And, for your envoy, he shall die, 
the rather and the sooner that thou dost entreat for him.” 

“ Now God be gracious to thee, Lord King ! ” said the her¬ 
mit, with' much emotion; “ thou art setting that mischief on 
foot which thou wilt hereafter wish thou hadst stopt, though it 
had cost thee a limb. Rash, blinded man, yet forbear ! ” 

“Away — away,” cried the King, stamping; “the sun hasi 
risen on the dishonor of England, and it is not yet avenged. | 
Ladies and priest, withdraw, if ye would not hear orders which; 

would displease you; for, by St. George, I swear-” 

1 Bayard: a famous horse. 



THE TALISMAN 


161 


“ Swear not ! ” said the voice of one who had just then en¬ 
tered the pavilion. 

“ Ha ! my learned Hakim,” said the King ; “come, I hope, 
to tax our generosity.” 

“ I come to request instant speech with you — instant — and 
touching matters of deep interest.” 

“ First look on my wife, Hakim, and let her know in you 
the preserver of her husband.” 

“It is not for me,” said the physician, folding his arms 
with an air of Oriental modesty and reverence, and bending 
his eyes on the ground — “it is not for me to look upon beauty 
unveiled, and armed in its splendors.” 

“ Retire, then, Berengaria,” said the monarch ; “ and, Edith, 
do you retire also. Nay, renew not your importunities ! This 
I give to them, that the execution shall not be till high noon. 
Go and be pacified. Dearest Berengaria, begone. Edith,” he 
added, with a glance which struck terror even into the coura¬ 
geous soul of his kinswoman, “go, if you are wise.” 

The females withdrew, or rather hurried from the tent, 
rank and ceremony forgotten, much like a flock of wild-fowl 
huddled together, against whom the falcon has made a recent 
stoop. 

They returned from thence to the Queen’s pavilion, to in¬ 
dulge in regrets and recriminations, equally unavailing. 
Edith was the only one who seemed to disdain these ordinary 
channels of sorrow. Without a sigh, without a tear, without 
a word of upbraiding, she attended upon the Queen, whose 
weak temperament showed her sorrow' in violent hysterical 
ecstasies, and passionate hypochondriacal effusions, in the 
course of which Edith sedulously, and even affectionately, 
attended her. 

“It is impossible she can have loved this knight,” said 
Florise to Calista, her senior in attendance upon the Queen’s 
person. “We have been mistaken ; she is but sorry for his 

M 


162 


THE TALISMAN 


fate, as for a stranger who has come to trouble on her ac¬ 
count.” 

“Hush — hush,” answered her more experienced and more 
observant comrade; “she is of that proud house of Plantage- 
net, who never own that a hurt grieves them. While they 
have themselves been bleeding to death under a mortal wound, 
they have been known to bind up the scratches sustained by 
their more faint-hearted comrades. Florise, we have done 
frightfully wrong; and, for my own part, I would buy with 
every jewel I have, that our fatal jest had remained unacted.” 1 


CHAPTER XVIII 


This work desires a planetary intelligence 
Of Jupiter and Sol; and those great spirits 
Are proud, fantastical. It asks great charges 
To entice them from the guiding of their spheres, 

To wait on mortals. 

Albumazar. 


The hermit followed the ladies from the pavilion of Richard, 
as shadow follows a beam of sunshine when the clouds are 
driving over the face of the sun. But he turned on the thres- : 
hold, and held up his hand towards the King in a warning, or . 
almost a menacing, posture, as he said : “Woe to him who ‘ 
rejects the counsel of the church, and betaketh himself to the 


1 It is well for the young reader again to note the art with which 
Sir Kenneth is extricated from his dangerous situation. The character 
of Richard is clearly set forth and developed by the peculiar affront he 
has received in the loss of the English standard as also by an attach¬ 
ment he disapproved. The climax of appeal should he noted, the 
Queen through her love, for mercy, Edith for justice, the hermit to 
the religious element in Richard, El Hakim to a great service freely 
rendered. If to this be added the skill with which some of these 
persons, while concealing their identity, yet elicit a constantly deepen¬ 
ing interest, all to be ultimately revealed in a natural way, it is plain 
that Scott was a master of the story-teller’s art. 




THE TALISMAN 


163 


foul divan of the infidel! King Richard, I do not yet shake 
the dust from my feet and depart from thy encampment: the 
sword falls not, but it hangs but by a hair. 1 Haughty mon¬ 
arch, we shall meet again.” 

“Be it so, haughty priest,” returned Richard — “prouder in 
thy goat-skins than princes in purple and fine linen.” 

The hermit vanished from the tent, and the King continued, 
addressing the Arabian : “Do the dervises of the East, wise 
Hakim, use such familiarity with their princes?” 

“The dervise,” replied Adonbec, “should be either a sage or 
a madman : there is no middle course for him who wears the 
khirkhah 2 who watches by night and fasts by day. Hence 
hath he either wisdom enough to bear himself discreetly in the 
presence of princes, or else, having no reason bestowed on him, 
he is not responsible for his own actions.” 

“ Methinks our monks have adopted chiefly the latter char¬ 
acter,” said Richard. “But to the matter. In what can I 
pleasure you, my learned physician ? ” 

“ Great King,” said El Hakim, making his profound Orien¬ 
tal obeisance, “ let thy servant speak one word, and yet live. 
I would remind thee that thou owest — not to me, their humble 
instrument — but to the Intelligences, whose benefits I dispense 
to mortals, a life-” 

“ And I warrant me thou wouldst have another in requital, 
ha ? ” interrupted the King. 

“ Such is my humble prayer,” said the Hakim, “ to the great 
Meleeh Ric, even the life of this good knight, who is doomed 
to die, and but for such fault as was committed by the Sultan 
Adam, surnamed Aboulbeschar, or the father of all men.” 

. “ And thy wisdom might remind thee, Hakim, that Adam 
died for it,” said the King, somewhat sternly, and then began 

1 The sword of Damocles. 

2 Khirkhah: literally, the torn robe. The habit of the dervises is 
so called. 



164 


THE TALISMAN 


to pace the narrow space of his tent, with some emotion, and 
to talk to himself. “Why, God a-mercy, I knew what he 
desired as soon as ever he entered the pavilion ! Here is one 
poor life justly condemned to extinction, and I, a king and a 
soldier, who have slain thousands by my command, and scores 
with my own hand, am to have no power over it, although the 
honor of my arms, of my house, of my very Queen, hath been 
attainted by the culprit. By St. George, it makes me laugh ! 
By St. Louis, it reminds me of Blondel’s 1 tale of an enchanted 
castle, where the destined knight was withstood successively 
in his purpose of entrance by forms and figures the most dis¬ 
similar, but all hostile to his undertaking. No sooner one 
sunk than another appeared. Wife — kinswoman — hermit — 
Hakim — each appears in the lists as soon as the other is de¬ 
feated. Why, this is a single knight fighting against the 
whole mel^e of the tournament — ha ! ha ! ha! ” And Rich¬ 
ard laughed aloud ; for he had, in fact, begun to change his mood, 
his resentment being usually too violent to be of long endurance. 

The physician meanwhile looked on him with a countenance 
of surprise, not unmingled with contempt; for the Eastern 
people make no allowance for those mercurial changes in the 1 
temper, and consider open laughter, upon almost any account, j 
as derogatory to the dignity of man, and becoming only to ! 
women and children. At length, the sage addressed the King, ' 
when he saw him more composed. 

“ A doom of death should not issue from laughing lips. Let ( 
thy servant hope that thou hast granted him this man’s life.” 

i With Scott a tale of chivalry would hardly he complete without the 
minstrel. There were Troubadours who flourished from the eleventh I 
to the thirteenth centuries in Southern France and Northern Italy. 
The Trouveurs constituted a school of poets who lived during about the 
same period in Northern France. The Jongleur was one who recited 
his own compositions before courts and people of rank. The minstrel 
was the same. They were created by the needs of the times, the wide¬ 
spread ignorance incident to great insecurity, lack of means of com¬ 
munication, absence of the printing press. 




THE TALISMAN 


165 


“ Take the freedom of a thousand captives instead,” said 
Richard: “restore so many of thy countrymen to their tents 
and families, and I will give the warrant instantly. This man’s 
life can avail thee nothing, and it is forfeited.” 

“ All our lives are forfeited,” said the Hakim, putting his 
hand to his cap. “ But the great Creditor is merciful, and 
exacts not the pledge rigorously nor untimely.” 

“ Thou canst show me,” said Richard, “ no special interest 
thpu hast to become intercessor betwixt me and the execution 
of justice, to which I am sworn as a crowned king.*’ 

“ Thou art sworn to the dealing forth mercy as well as jus¬ 
tice,” said El Hakim; “but what thou seekest, great King, is 
the execution of thine own will. And, for the concern I have 
in this request, know that many a man’s life depends upon thy 
granting this boon.” 

“ Explain thy words,” said Richard; “ but think not to im¬ 
pose upon me by false pretexts.” 

“ Be it far from thy servant ! ” said Adonbec. “ Know, 
then, that the medicine to which thou, Sir King, and many one 
beside owe their recovery is a talisman , 1 composed under cer¬ 
tain aspects of the heavens, when the Divine Intelligences are 
most propitious. I am but the poor administrator of its vir¬ 
tues. I dip it in a cup of water, observe the fitting hour to 
administer it to the patient, and the potency of the draught 
works the cure.” 

“A most rare medicine,” said the King, “and a commo¬ 
dious ! and, as it may be carried in the leech’s purse, would 
save the whole caravan of camels which they require to convey 
drugs and physic-stuff. I marvel there is any other in use.” 

“It is written,” answered the Hakim, with imperturbable 
gravity, “ ‘ Abuse not the steed which hath borne thee from 

1 The name of this story was taken from an ancient medical charm- 
stone, in possession of a" Scotch family, the incidents of which are 
narrated in complete editions of this work. 



166 


THE TALISMAN 


the battle.’ Know, that such talismans might indeed be 
framed, but rare has been the number of adepts who have 
dared to undertake the application of their virtue. Severe re¬ 
strictions, painful observances, fasts, and penance are necessary 
on the part of the sage who uses this mode of cure; and if, 
through neglect of these preparations, by his love of ease, or 
his indulgence of sensual appetite, he omits to cure at least 
twelve persons within the course of each moon, the virtue of 
the divine gift departs from the amulet, and both the last 
patient and the physician will be exposed to speedy misfortune, 
neither will they survive the year. I require yet one life to 
make up the appointed number.” 

“ Go out into the camp, good Hakim, where thou wilt find a 
many,” said the King, “and do not seek to rob my headsman 
of his patients ; it is unbecoming a mediciner of thine eminence 
to interfere with the practice of another. Besides, I cannot see 
how delivering a criminal from the death he deserves should go 
to make up thy tale of miraculous cures.” B 

“ When thou canst show why a draught of cold water should 
have cured thee, when the most precious drugs failed,” said the , 
Hakim, “ thou mayst reason on the other mysteries attendant | 
on this matter. For myself, I am inefficient to the great j 
work, having this morning touched an unclean animal. Ask, i 
therefore, no farther questions; it is enough that, by sparing, 
this man’s life at my request, you will deliver yourself, great; 
King, and thy servant from a great danger.” 

“ Hark thee, Adonbec,” replied the King, “ I have no objec¬ 
tion that leeches should wrap their words in mist, and pretend 
to derive knowledge from the stars ; but when you bid Richard 
Plantagenet fear that a danger will fall upon him from some) 
idle omen or omitted ceremonial, you speak to no ignorant 
Saxon, or doting old woman, who foregoes her purpose because aj 
hare crosses the path, a raven croaks, or a cat sneezes.” 

“ I cannot hinder your doubt of my words,” said Adonbec 




THE TALISMAN 


167 


“but yet, let my Lord the King grant that truth is on the 
tongue of his servant, will he think it just to deprive the world, 
and every wretch who may suffer by the pains which so lately 
reduced him to that couch, of the benefit of this so virtuous 
j talisman, rather than extend his forgiveness to one poor crimi- 
; nal ? Bethink you, Lord King, that, though thou canst slay 
thousands, thou canst not restore one man to health. Kings 
have the power of Satan to torment, sages that of Allah to 
heal; beware how thou hinderest the good to humanity which 
thou canst not thyself render. Thou canst cut off the head, but 
not cure the aching tooth.” 

“ This is over-insolent,” said the King, hardening himself, as 
I the Hakim assumed a more lofty, and almost a commanding, 

1 tone. “We took thee for our leech, not for our counsellor or 
conscience-keeper.” 

“And is it thus the most renowned prince of Frangistan 
repays benefit done to his royal person 1 ” said El Hakim, ex- 
j changing the humble and stooping posture in which he had 
j hitherto solicited the King for an attitude lofty and command¬ 
ing. “Know, then,” he said, “that through every court of 
Europe and Asia — to Moslem and Nazarene — to knight and 
lady — wherever harp is heard and sword worn — wherever 
! honor is loved and infamy detested — to every quarter of the 
! world will I denounce thee, Melech Ric, as thankless and 
| ungenerous ; and even the lands —if there be any such— that 
never heard of thy renown shall yet be acquainted with thy 
shame! ” 

“Are these terms to me, vile infidel?” said Richard, striding 
up to him in fury. “ Art weary of thy life ? ” 

“ Strike ! ” said El Hakim; “ thine own deed shall then 
paint thee more worthless than could my words, though each 
had an hornet’s sting.” 

Richard turned fiercely from him, folded his arms, traversed 
the tent as before, and then exclaimed: “ Thankless and un- 




168 


THE TALISMAN 


generous ! as well be termed coward and infidel. Hakim, thou 
hast chosen thy boon ; and though I had rather thou hadst 
asked my crown-jewels, yet I may not, kinglike, refuse thee. 
Take this Scot, therefore, to thy keeping; the provost will 
deliver him to thee on this warrant.” 

He hastily traced one or two lines, and gave them to the 
physician. “ Use him as thy bond-slave, to be disposed of as j 
thou wilt; only let him beware how he comes before the eyes j 
of Richard. Hark thee — thou art wise — he hath been over¬ 
bold among those in whose fair looks and weak judgments we 
trust our honor, as you of the East lodge your treasures in 
caskets of silver wires, as fine and as frail as the web of a 
gossamer.” 

“ Thy servant understands the words of the King,” said the 
sage, at once resuming the reverent style of address in which 
he had commenced. “ When the rich carpet is soiled, the fool 
pointeth to the stain, the wise man covers it with his mantle. 

I have heard my lord’s pleasure, and to hear is to obey.” 

“ It is well,” said the King; “ let him consult his own safety, 
and never appear in my presence more. Is there aught else 
in which I may do thee pleasure 1 ” 

“ The bounty of the King hath filled my cup to the brim,” 
said the sage; “ yea, it hath been abundant as the fountain 
which sprung up amid the camp of the descendants of Israel, 
when the rock was stricken by the rod of Moussa ben Amran ” 1 
“ Ay, but,” said the King, smiling, “ it required, as in the 
desert, a hard blow on the rock, ere it yielded its treasures. I 
would that I knew something to pleasure thee, which I might 
yield as freely as the natural fountain sends forth its waters.” 

“ Let me touch that victorious hand,” said the sage, “ in 
token that, if Adonbec el Hakim should hereafter demand a 
boon of Richard of England, he may do so, yet plead his 
command.” 


1 Moses. 



THE TALISMAN 


169 


“Thou hast hand and glove upon it, man,” replied Richard; 
“only, if thou couldst consistently make up thy tale of patients 
without craving me to deliver from punishment those who have 
deserved it, I would more willingly discharge my debt in some 
other form.” 

“ May thy days be multiplied ! ” answered the Hakim, and 
withdrew from the apartment after the usual deep obeisance. 

King Richard gazed after him as he departed, like one but 
half-satisfied with what had passed. 

“Strange pertinacity,” he said, “in this Hakim, and a won¬ 
derful chance to interfere between that audacious Scot and the 
chastisement he has merited so richly. Yet, let him live! 
there is one brave man the more in the world. And now for 
the Austrian. Ho, is the Baron of Gilsland there without 1 ” 

Sir Thomas de Yaux thus summoned, his bulky form speedily 
darkened the opening of the pavilion, while behind him glided 
as a spectre, unannounced yet unopposed, the savage form of 
the Hermit of Engaddi, wrapped in his goat-skin mantle. 

Richard, without noticing his presence, called in a loud tone 
to the baron : “ Sir Thomas de Yaux of Lanercost and Gilsland, 
take trumpet and herald, and go instantly to the tent of him 
whom they call Archduke of Austria, and see that it be when 
the press of his knights and vassals is greatest around him, as 
is likely at this hour, for the German boar breakfasts ere he 
hears mass; enter his presence with as little reverence as thou 
mayst, and impeach him, on the part of Richard of England, 
that he hath this night, by his own hand or that of others, 
stolen from its staff the banner of England. Wherefore, say to 
him our pleasure that, within an hour from the time of my 
speaking, he restore the said banner with all reverence, he him- 
I self and his principal barons waiting the whilst with heads 
uncovered, and without their robes of honor. And that, 
moreover, he pitch beside it, on the one hand, his own banner 
of Austria reversed, as that which hath been dishonored by 




170 


THE TALISMAN 


theft and felony ; and on the other a lance, bearing the bloody 
head of him who was his nearest counsellor or assistant in this 
base injury. And say, that such our behests being punctually 
discharged, we will, for the sake of our vow and the weal of the 
Holy Land, forgive his other forfeits.” 

“ And how if the Duke of Austria deny all accession to this 
act of wrong and of felony?” said Thomas de Vaux. 

“ Tell him,” replied the King, “ we will prove it upon his 
body — ay, were he backed with his two bravest champions. 
Knightlike will we prove it, on foot or on horse, in the desert or 
in the field — time, place, and arms all at his own choice.” 

“ Bethink you of the peace of God and the church, my liege 
lord,” said the Baron of Gilsland, “ among those princes engaged 
in this holy Crusade.” 

“ Bethink you how to execute my commands, my liege vas¬ 
sal,” answered Richard, impatiently. “ Methinks men expect 
to turn our purpose by their breath, as boys blow feathers 
to and fro. Peace of the church! who, I prithee, minds it ? 
The peace of the church, among Crusaders, implies war with the 
Saracens, with whom the princes have made truce, and the one 
ends with the other. And, besides, see you not how every 
prince of them is seeking his own several ends 1 I will seek 
mine also, and that is honor. For honor I came hither, and 
if I may not win it upon the Saracens, at least I will not 
lose a jot from any respect to this paltry duke, though 
he were bulwarked and buttressed by every prince in the 
Crusade.” 

De Vaux turned to obey the King’s mandate, shrugging his 
shoulders at the same time, the bluntness of his nature being 
unable to conceal that its tenor went against his judgment. 
But the hermit of Engaddi stepped forward, and assumed the 
air of one charged with higher commands than those of a mere 
earthly potentate. Indeed, his dress of shaggy skins, his un¬ 
combed and untrimmed hair and beard, his lean, wild, and con- 


THE TALISMAN 


171 


torted features, and the almost insane fire which gleamed from 
under his bushy eyebrows, made him approach nearly to our 
idea of some seer of Scripture, who, charged with high mission 
to the sinful kings of Judah or Israel, descended from the rocks 
and caverns in which he dwelt in abstracted solitude, to abash 
earthly tyrants in the midst of their pride, by discharging on 
them the blighting denunciations of Divine Majesty, even as 
the cloud discharges the lightnings with which it is fraught on 
the pinnacles and towers of castles and palaces. 

In the midst of his most wayward mood, Richard respected 
the church and its ministers, and though offended at the intru¬ 
sion of the hermit into his tent, he greeted him with respect; 
at the same time, however, making a sign to Sir Thomas de 
Vaux to hasten on his message. 

But the hermit prohibited the baron, by gesture, look, and 
word, to stir a yard on such an errand; and, holding up his 
bare arm, from which the goat-skin mantle fell back in the 
violence of his action, he waved it aloft, meagre with famine, 
and wealed with the blows of the discipline. 

“In the name of God, and of the most holy Father, the 
vicegerent of the Christian Church upon earth, I prohibit this 
most profane, bloodthirsty, and brutal defiance betwixt two 
Christian princes, whose shoulders are signed with the blessed 
mark under which they swore brotherhood. Woe to him by 
whom it is broken ! Richard of England, recall the most un¬ 
hallowed message thou hast given to that baron. Danger and 
death are nigh thee—the dagger is glancing at thy very 
throat! ” 

“ Danger and death are playmates to Richard,” answered the 
monarch, proudly; “ and he hath braved too many swords to 
fear a dagger.” 

“ Danger and death are near,” replied the seer; and, sink¬ 
ing his voice to a hollow, unearthly tone, he added, “And 
after death the judgment! ” 




172 


THE TALISMAN 


“Good and holy father,” said Richard, “I reverence thy 

person and thy sanctity-” 

“Reverence not me,” interrupted the hermit; “reverence \ 
sooner the vilest insect that crawls by the shores of the Dead 
Sea, and feeds upon its accursed slime. Reverence Him whose 
sepulchre you have vowed to rescue. Revere the oath of con- j 
cord which you have sworn, and break not the silver cord of 
union and fidelity with which you have bound yourself to your 
princely confederates.” 

“ Good father,” said the King, “ you of the church seem to I 
me to presume somewhat, if a layman may say so much, upon 
the dignity of your holy character. Without challenging your f 
right to take charge of our conscience, methinks you might leave 1 
us the charge of our own honor.” 

“ Presume ! ” repeated the hermit; “ is it for me to presume, jj 
royal Richard, who am but the bell obeying the hand of the i 
sexton — but the senseless and worthless trumpet, carrying the 
command of him who sounds it ? See, on my knees I throw 
myself before thee, imploring thee to have mercy on Christen- f 
dom, on England, and on thyself! ” 

“Rise — rise,” said Richard, compelling him to stand up; j 
“ it beseems not that knees which are so frequently bended to \ 
the Deity should press the ground in honor of man. What 
danger awaits us, reverend father? and when stood the power I 
of England so low, that the noisy bluster of this new-made j! 
duke s displeasure should alarm her or her monarch ? ” 

“ I have looked forth from my mountain turret upon the 
starry host of heaven, as each in his midnight circuit uttered ' 
wisdom to another, and knowledge to the few who can under- : 
stand their voice. There sits an enemy in thy house of life, 1 
Lord King, malign at once to thy fame and thy prosperity — 
an emanation of Saturn, menacing thee with instant and j 
bloody peril, and which, but thou yield thy proud will to the 
rule of thy duty, will presently crush thee, even in thy pride.” 




THE TALISMAN 


173 


“Away — away, this is heathen science,” said the King. 
1 “ Christians practise it not; wise men believe it not. Old 
*| man, thou dotest.” 

I “ I dote not, Richard,” answered the hermit; “ I am not so 
h a PPy- I know my condition, and that some portion of reason 
j is yet permitted me, not for my own use, but that of the church 
and the advancement of the Cross. I am the blind man who 
holds a torch to others, though it yields no light to himself, 
i! Ask me touching what concerns the weal of Christendom and 
; of this Crusade, and I will speak with thee as the wisest 
! counsellor on whose tongue persuasion ever sat. Speak to me 
of my own wretched being, and my words shall be those of the 
maniac outcast which I am.” 

“ I would not break the bands of unity asunder among the 
princes of the Crusade,” said Richard, with a mitigated tone 
and manner; “ but what atonement can they render me for the 
j injustice and insult which I have sustained 1 ” 

“Even of that I am prepared and commissioned to speak by 
the council, which, meeting hastily at the summons of Philip 
j of France, have taken measures for that effect.” 

“Strange,” replied Richard, “that others should treat of 
what is due to the wounded Majesty of England! ” 

“ They are willing to anticipate your demands, if it be pos¬ 
sible,” answered the hermit. “In a body, they consent that the 
banner of England be replaced on St. George’s Mount, and they 
lay under ban and condemnation the audacious criminal, or crim¬ 
inals, by whom it was outraged, and will announce a princely re- 
[ ward to any who shall denounce the delinquent’s guilt, and give 
his flesh to the wolves and ravens.” 

“And Austria,” said Richard, “upon whom rest such strong 
presumptions that he was the author of the deed 1 ” 

“ To prevent discord in the host,” replied the hermit, 

“ Austria will clear himself of the suspicion, by submitting to 
whatsoever ordeal the Patriarch of Jerusalem shall impose.” 



174 


THE TALISMAN 


“ Will he clear himself by the trial by combat ?” said King 
Richard. 

“ His oath prohibits it,” said the hermit; “and, moreover, 

the council of the princes-” 

“ Will neither authorize battle against the Saracens,” inter¬ 
rupted Richard, “ nor against any one else. But it is enough, 
father; thou hast shown me the folly of proceeding as I de¬ 
signed in this matter. You shall sooner light your torch in a 
puddle of rain than bring a spark out of a cold-blooded coward. 
There is no honor to be gained on Austria, and so let him 
pass. I will have him perjure himself, however: I will insist 
on the ordeal. How I shall laugh to hear his clumsy fingers 
hiss, as he grasps the red-hot globe of iron ! Ay, or his huge 
mouth riven, and his gullet swelling to suffocation, as he en¬ 
deavors to swallow the consecrated bread ! ” 1 

“Peace, Richard,” said the hermit — “oh, peace, for shame 
if not for charity! Who shall praise or honor princes who 
insult and culumniate each other ? Alas ! that a creature so 
noble as thou art, so accomplished in princely thoughts and 
princely daring, so fitted to honor Christendom by thy actions, 
and, in thy calmer mood, to rule her by thy wisdom, should yet 
have the brute and wild fury of the lion nlingled with the dig¬ 
nity and courage of that king of the forest! ” 

He remained an instant musing with his eyes fixed on the 
ground,, and then proceeded: “ But Heaven, that knows our 
imperfect nature, accepts of our imperfect obedience, and hath 

1 The history of Trial by Ordeal would carry one into every land, 
among every people, and into remote ages. It embraced carrying 
red-hot balls of iron nine steps, walking over hot ploughshares, lick¬ 
ing with the tongue hot spoons, walking through fire, dipping the arms 
into melted lead. There were poison ordeals, in which a liquid if not \ 
retained, subjected the victim to punishment, and during the day of 
witchcraft in our own history, ducking became not only a punishment, | 
but a sign of guilt. Such tests are evidences of low conditions of I 
intelligence, under which superstitions prevail and life is held very 
cheap. 





THE TALISMAN 


175 


delayed, though not averted, the bloody end of thy daring life. 
The destroying angel hath stood still, as of old by the thresh¬ 
ing-floor of Araunah the Jebusite, 1 and the blade is drawn in 
his hand, by which, at no distant date, Richard the lion-hearted 
shall be as low as the meanest peasant.” 

“ Must it then be so soon ? ” said Richard. “ Yet, even so 
be it. May my course be bright, if it be but brief! ” 

“ Alas ! noble King,” said the solitary, and it seemed as if 
a tear (unwonted guest) were gathering in his dry and glaz- 
ened eye, “short and melancholy, marked with mortification, 
and calamity, and captivity, is the span that divides thee from 
the grave which yawns for thee — a grave in which thou shalt 
be laid without lineage to succeed thee, without the tears of a 
people, exhausted by thy ceaseless wars, to lament thee, with- 
! out having extended the knowledge of thy subjects, without 
■ having done aught to enlarge their happiness.” 

“But not without renown, monk — not without the tears 
i of the lady of my love. These consolations, which thou 
canst neither know nor estimate, await upon Richard to his 
grave.” 

“ Do I not know — can I not estimate, the value of min¬ 
strel’s praise and of lady’s love ? ” retorted the hermit, in a tone 
which for a moment seemed to emulate the enthusiasm of 
Richard himself. “ King of England,” he continued, extending 
his emaciated arm, “the blood which boils in thy blue veins is 
not more noble than that which stagnates in mine. Few and 
cold as the drops are, they still are of the blood of the royal 
Lusignan — of the heroic and sainted Godfrey. I am — that 

is, I was when in the world — Alberick Mortemar-” 

“ Whose deeds,” said Richard, “ have so often filled Fame’s 
trumpet! Is it so — can it be so ? Could such a light as 
thine fall from the horizon of chivalry, and yet men be uncer¬ 
tain where its embers had alighted ? ” 

1 II. Samuel xxiv. 16. 





176 


THE TALISMAN 


“Seek a fallen star,” said the hermit, “and thou shalt only 
light on some foul jelly, which, in shooting through the hori¬ 
zon, has assumed for a moment an appearance of splendor. 
Richard, if I thought that rending the bloody veil from my hor¬ 
rible fate could make thy proud heart stoop to the discipline of 
the church, I could find in my heart to tell thee a tale which I 
have hitherto kept gnawing at my vitals in concealment, like 
the self-devoted youth of Heathenesse. Listen, then, Richard, 
and may the grief and despair which cannot avail this wretched 
remnant of what was once a man be powerful as an example to 
so noble, yet so wild, a being as thou art! Yes, I will — I 
will tear open the long-hidden wounds, although in thy very 
presence they should bleed to death ! ” 

King Richard, upon whom the history of Alberfck of Morte- 
mar had made a deep impression in his early years, when 
minstrels were regaling his father’s halls with legends of the 
Holy Land, listened with respect to the outlines of a tale which, 
darkly and imperfectly sketched, indicated sufficiently the 
cause of the partial insanity of this singular and most unhappy 
being. 

“ I need not,” he said, “tell thee that I was noble in birth, 
high in fortune, strong in arms, wise in counsel. All these I 
was ; but while the noblest ladies in Palestine strove which 
should wind garlands for my helmet, my love was fixed — un¬ 
alterably and devotedly fixed — on a maiden of low degree. 
Her father, an ancient soldier of the Cross, saw our passion, 
and knowing the difference betwixt us, saw no other refuge 
for his daughter’s honor than to place her within the shadow 
of the cloister. I returned from a distant expedition, loaded 
with spoils and honor, to find my happiness was destroyed 
forever. I, too, sought the cloister, and Satan, who had 
marked me for his own, breathed into my heart a vapor of 
spiritual pride, which could only have had its source in his own 
infernal regions. I had risen as high in the church as before 


THE TALISMAN 


177 


in the state: I was, forsooth, the wise, the self-sufficient, the 
impeccable \ l I was the counsellor of councils—I was the di¬ 
rector of prelates — how should I stumble — wherefore should 
I fear temptation ? Alas ! I became confessor to a sisterhood, 
and amongst that sisterhood I found the long-loved — the long- 
lost. Spare me further confession ! A fallen nun, whose 
guilt was avenged by self-murder, sleeps soundly in the vaults 
of Engaddi, while, above her very grave, gibbers, moans, and 
roars a creature to whom but so much reason is left as may 
suffice to render him completely sensible to his fate! ” 

“ Unhappy man ! ” said Richard, “ I wonder no longer at 
thy misery. How didst thou escape the doom which the 
canons denounce against thy offence ? ” 

“ Ask one who is yet in the gall of worldly bitterness,” said 
the hermit, “ and he will speak of a life spared for personal 
respects, and from consideration to high birth. But, Rich¬ 
ard, I tell thee that Providence hath preserved me to lift me 
on high as a light and beacon, whose ashes, when this earthly 
fuel is burnt out, must yet be flung into Tophet. 2 Withered 
and shrunk as this poor form is, it is yet animated with two 
spirits — one active, shrewd and piercing, to advocate the cause 
of the church of Jerusalem; one mean, abject, and despairing, 
fluctuating between madness and misery, to mourn over my 
own wretchedness, and to guard holy relics, on which it would 
be most sinful for me even to cast my eye. Pity me not ! it 
is but sin to pity the loss of such an abject — pity me not, 
but profit by my example. Thou standest on the highest, 
and, therefore, on the most dangerous, pinnacle occupied by 
any Christian prince. Thou art proud of heart, loose of life, 
bloody of hand. Put from thee the sins which are to thee as 

1 Impeccable: sinless. 

2 A valley near Jerusalem where were taken and burnt the filth and 
sewage of the city, also where offerings of children to Moloch were 
made, and so it became a symbol of a place of mourning and weeping. 


N 



178 


THE TALISMAN 


daughters : though they be dear to the sinful Adam, expel 
these adopted furies from thy breast — thy pride, thy luxury, 
thy bloodthirstiness! ” 

“ He raves,” said Richard, turning from the solitary to De 
Yaux, as one who felt some pain from a sarcasm which yet 
he could not resent; then turned him calmly, and somewhat 
scornfully, to the anchorite, as he replied : “ Thou hast found 
a fair bevy of daughters, reverend father, to one who hath 
been but few months married ; but since I must put them from 
my roof, it were but like a father to provide them with suit¬ 
able matches. Wherefore I will part with my pride to the 
noble canons of the church, my luxury, as thou call’st it, to 
the monks of the rule, and my bloodthirstiness to the Knights 
of the Temple.” 

“ Oh, heart of steel and hand of iron,” said the anchorite, 
“upon whom example, as well as advice, is alike thrown 
away ! Yet shalt thou be spared for a season, in case it so be 
thou shouldst turn and do that which is acceptable in the 
sight of Heaven 1 For me, I must return to my place. Ky¬ 
rie eleison! I am he through whom the rays of Heavenly 
grace dart like those of the sun through a burning glass, con¬ 
centrating them on other objects until they kindle and blaze, 
while the glass itself remains cold and uninfluenced. Kyrie 
eleison ! The poor must be called, for the rich have refused 
the banquet. Kyrie eleison / ” So saying, he burst from the 
tent, uttering loud cries. 

“ A mad priest! ” said Richard, from whose mind the frantic 
exclamations of the hermit had partly obliterated the impres¬ 
sion produced by the detail of his personal history and misfor¬ 
tunes. “After him, De Yaux, and see he comes to no harm ; 
for, Crusaders as we are, a juggler hath more reverence 
amongst our varlets than a priest or a saint, and they may, 
perchance, put some scorn upon him.” 

The knight obeyed, and Richard presently gave way to the 


THE TALISMAN 


179 


thoughts which the wild prophecy of the monk had inspired. 
“ To die early — without lineage — without lamentation ! a 
heavy sentence, and well that it is not passed by a more com¬ 
petent judge. Yet the Saracens, who are accomplished in 
mystical knowledge, will often maintain that He in whose 
eyes the wisdom of the sage is but as folly inspires wisdom 
and prophecy into the seeming folly of the madman. Yonder 
hermit is said to read the stars too, an art generally practised 
in these lands, where the heavenly host was of yore the ob¬ 
ject of idolatry. I would I had asked him touching the loss 
of my banner; for not the blessed Tishbite, 1 the founder of his 
order, could seem more wildly rapt out of himself or speak with 
a tongue more resembling that of a prophet. How now, De 
Vaux, what news of the mad priest ? ” 

“ Mad priest, call you him, my lord ? ” answered De Yaux. 
“Methinks he resembles more the blessed Baptist himself, 
just issued from the wilderness. He has placed himself on 
one of the military engines, and from thence he preaches to 
the soldiers, as never man preached since the time of Peter the 
Hermit. The camp, alarmed by his cries, crowd around him 
| as in thousands; and breaking off every now and then from 
: the main thread of his discourse, he addresses the several 
nations, each in their own language, and presses upon each 
the arguments best qualified to urge them to perseverance in 
the delivery of Palestine.” 

“ By this light, a noble hermit! ” said King Richard. 
“ But what else could come from the blood of Godfrey 1 He 
despair of safety, because he hath in former day lived par 
amours ? I will have the Pope send him an ample remission, 
and I -would not less willingly be intercessor had his belle amie 
been an abbess.” 

As he spoke, the Archbishop of Tyre craved audience, for 
the purpose of requesting Richard’s attendance, should his 
i Elijah. 



180 


THE TALISMAN 


health permit, on a secret conclave of the chiefs of the Crusade, 
and to explain to him the military and political incidents which 
had occurred during his illness. 


CHAPTER XIX 

Must we then sheathe our still victorious sword, 

Turn back our forward step, which ever trode 
O’er foemen’s necks the onward path of glory, 

Unclasp the mail, which with a solemn vow, 

In God’s own house, we hung upon our shoulders — 

That vow, as unaccomplish’d as the promise 
Which village nurses make to still their children, 

And after think no more of ? 

The Crusade, a Tragedy. 

The Archbishop of Tyre was an emissary well chosen to 
communicate to Richard tidings which from another voice the 
lion-hearted king would not have brooked to hear, without the 
most unbounded explosions of resentment. Even this sagacious 
and revered prelate found difficulty in inducing him to listen to 
news which destroyed all his hopes of gaining back the Holy 
Sepulchre by force of arms, and acquiring the renown which 
the universal all-hail of Christendom was ready to confer upon 
him, as the Champion of the Cross. 

But, by the archbishop’s report, it appeared that Saladin 
was assembling all the force of his hundred tribes, and that the 
monarch s of Europe, already disgusted from various motives 
with the expedition, which had proved so hazardous, and was 
daily growing more so, had resolved to abandon their purpose. 
In this they were countenanced by the example of Philip of | 
France, who, with many protestations of regard, and assur¬ 
ances that he would first see his brother of England in safety, 
declared his intention to return to Europe. His great vassal, 



THE TALISMAN 


181 


the Earl of Champagne, had adopted the same resolution ; and 
it could not excite surprise that Leopold of Austria, affronted 
as he had been by Richard, was glad to embrace an opportunity 
of deserting a cause in which his haughty opponent was to be 
considered as chief. Others announced the same purpose; so 
that it was plain that the King of England was to be left, if he 
chose to remain, supported only by such volunteers as might, 
under such depressing circumstances, join themselves to the 
English army, and by the doubtful aid of Conrade of Montser¬ 
rat, and the military orders of the Temple and of St. John, 
who, though they were sworn to wage battle against the Sara¬ 
cens, were at least equally jealous of any European monarch 
achieving the conquest of Palestine, where, with short-sighted 
and selfish policy, they proposed to establish independent do¬ 
minions of their own. 

It needed not many arguments to show Richard the truth of 
his situation ; and, indeed, after his first burst of passion, he sat 
him calmly down, and, with gloomy looks, head depressed, and 
arms folded on his bosom, listened to the archbishop’s reason¬ 
ing on the impossibility of his carrying on the Crusade when 
deserted by his companions. Kay, he forebore interruption, 
even when the prelate ventured, in measured terms, to hint 
that Richard’s own impetuosity had been one main cause of 
disgusting the princes with the expedition. 

“ Confiteor ,” 1 answered Richard, with a dejected look, and 
something of a melancholy smile; “I confess, reverend father, 
that I ought on some accounts to sing culpa mea. But is it 
not hard that my frailties of temper should be visited with such 
a penance — that, for a burst or two of natural passion, I should 
be doomed to see fade before me ungathered such a rich harvest 
of glory to God and honor to chivalry 1 But it shall not fade. 
By the soul of the Conqueror, I will plant the cross on the towers 
of Jerusalem, or it shall be planted over Richard’s grave ! ” 

1 1 confess. 


182 


THE TALISMAN 


“ Thou mayst do it,’ 7 said the prelate, “yet not another 
drop of Christian blood be shed in the quarrel.” 

“ Ah, you speak of compromise, Lord Prelate; but the blood 
of the infidel hounds must also cease to flow,” said Richard. 

“There will be glory enough,” replied the archbishop, “in 
having extorted from Saladin, by force of arms, and by the 
respect inspired by your fame, such conditions as at once re¬ 
store the Holy Sepulchre, open the Holy Land to pilgrims, j 
secure their safety by strong fortresses, and, stronger than all, j 
assure the safety of the Holy City, by conferring on Richard 
the title of King Guardian of Jerusalem.” 

“How!” said Richard, his eyes sparkling with unusual 
light. “I — I — I the King Guardian of the Holy City ! Vic¬ 
tory itself, but that it is victory, could not gain more, scarce 
so much, when won with unwilling and disunited forces. But 
Saladin still proposes to retain his interest in the Holy Land ? ” 

“ As a joint sovereign, the sworn ally,” replied the prelate, 
“of the mighty Richard — his relative, if it may be permitted, 
by marriage.” 

“ By marriage ! ” said Richard, surprised, yet less so than the 
prelate had expected. “ Ha ! Ay — Edith Plantagenet! Lid 
I dream this or did some one tell me ? My head is still weak 
from this fever, and has been agitated. Was it the Scot, or 
the Hakim, or yonder holy hermit that hinted such a wild 
bargain 1 ” 

“ The hermit of Engaddi, most likely,” said the archbishop, 
“for he hath toiled much in this matter; and since the discon¬ 
tent of the princes has become apparent, and a separation of 
their forces unavoidable, he hath had many consultations, both 
with Christian and Pagan, for arranging such a pacification as 
may give to Christendom, at least in part, the objects of this 
holy warfare.” 

“ My kinswoman to an infidel — ha ! ” exclaimed Richard, as 
his eyes began to sparkle. 




THE TALISMAN 


183 


The prelate hastened to avert his wrath. “ The Pope’s con¬ 
sent must doubtless be first attained, and the holy hermit, who 
is well known at Rome, will treat with the Holy Father.” 

“ How ! without our consent first given ? ” said the King. 

“ Surely no,” said the bishop, in a quieting and insinuating 
tone of voice; “ only with and under your especial sanction.” 

“ My sanction to marry my kinswoman to an infidel! ” said 
Richard; yet he spoke rather in a tone of doubt than as dis¬ 
tinctly reprobating the measure proposed. “ Could I have 
dreamed of such a composition when I leaped upon the Syrian 
shore from the prow of my galley, even as a lion springs on his 
prey ; and now-? But proceed, I will hear with patience.” 

Equally delighted and surprised to find his task so much 
easier than he had apprehended, the archbishop hastened to 
pour forth before Richard the instances of such alliances in 
Spain, not without countenance from the Holy See, the incal¬ 
culable advantages which all Christendom would derive from 
the union of Richard and Saladin by a bond so sacred; and, 
above all, he spoke with great vehemence and unction on the 
probability that Saladin would, in case of the proposed alliance, 
exchange his false faith for the true one. 

“ Hath the Soldan shown any disposition to become Chris¬ 
tian ? ” said Richard; “ if so, the king lives not on earth to 
whom I would grant the hand of a kinswoman, ay, or sister — 
sooner than to my noble Saladin — ay, though the one came to 
lay crown and sceptre at her feet, and the other had nothing to 
offer but his good sword and better heart.” 

“ Saladin hath heard our Christian teachers,” said the bishop, 
somewhat evasively—“my unworthy self, and others, and as 
he listens with patience, and replies with calmness, it can 
hardly be but that he be snatched as a brand from the burn¬ 
ing. Magna est veritas , et prevalebit} Moreover, the hermit 
of Engaddi, few of whose words have fallen fruitless to the 
i Truth is mighty, and will prevail. 



184 


THE TALISMAN 


ground, is possessed fully with the belief that there is a calling 
of the Saracens and the other heathen approaching, to which 
this marriage shall be matter of induction. He readeth the 
course of the stars ; and dwelling, with maceration of the flesh, 
in those divine places which the saints have trodden of old, the 
spirit of Elijah the Tishbite, the founder of his blessed order, 
hath been with him as it was with the prophet Elisha, the son 
of Shaphat, when he spread his mantle over him.” 

King Richard listened to the prelate’s reasoning with a down¬ 
cast brow and a troubled look. . jfl 

“ I cannot tell,” he said, “ how it is with me; but methinks 
these cold counsels of the princes of Christendom have infected 
me too with a lethargy of spirit. The time hath been that, 
had a layman proposed such alliance to me, I had struck him 
to earth; if a churchman, I had spit at him as a renegade and 
priest of Baal; yet now this counsel sounds not so strange in 
mine ear. For why should I not seek for brotherhood and 
alliance with a Saracen, brave, just, generous, who loves and 
honors a worthy foe as if he were a friend ; whilst the princes 
of Christendom shrink from the side of their allies, and forsake 
the cause of Heaven and good knighthood 1 But I will possess 
my patience, and will not think of them. Only one attempt 
will I make to keep this gallant brotherhood together, if it be 
possible; and if I fail, Lord Archbishop, we will speak together 
of thy counsel, which, as now, I neither accept nor altogether 
reject. Wend we to the council, my lord — the hour calls us. 
Thou say’st Richard is hasty and proud; thou shalt see him 
humble himself like the lowly broom-plant from which he 
derives his surname.” 

With the assistance of those of his privy-chamber, the King 
then hastily robed himself in a doublet and mantle of a dark 
and uniform color; and without any mark of regal dignity, 
excepting a ring of gold upon his head, he hastened with the 
Archbishop of Tyre to attend the council, which waited but 
his presence to commence its sitting. 




THE TALISMAN 


185 


11 The pavilion of the council was an ample tent, having be- 

3 ^ the large banner of the Cross displayed, and another, on 

I which was portrayed a female kneeling, with dishevelled hair 
!! and disordered dress, meant to represent the desolate and dis¬ 
tressed church of Jerusalem, and bearing the motto, Affiictce 
j sponsce ne obliviscaris. 1 Warders, carefully selected, kept every 
one at a distance from the neighborhood of this tent, lest the 
debates, which were sometimes of a loud and stormy character, 
should reach other ears than those they were designed for. 

Here, therefore, the princes of the Crusade were assembled, 
awaiting Richard’s arrival; and even the brief delay which 
was thus interposed was turned to his disadvantage by his 
j enemies; various instances being circulated of his pride and 
j undue assumption of superiority, of which even the necessity 
of the present short pause was quoted as an instance. Men 
strove to fortify each other in their evil opinion of the King 
of England, and vindicated the offence which each had taken, 
by putting the most severe construction upon circumstances 
the most trifling; and all this, perhaps, because they were 
conscious of an instinctive reverence for the heroic monarch, 
which it would require more than ordinary efforts to over¬ 
come. 

They had settled, accordingly, that they should receive him 
on his entrance with slight notice, and no more respect than 
was exactly necessary to keep within the bounds of cold cere¬ 
monial. But when they beheld that noble form, that princely 
countenance, somewhat pale from his late illness, the eye which 
had been called by minstrels the bright star of battle and vic¬ 
tory— when his feats, almost surpassing human strength and 
valor, rushed on their recollection, the council of princes simul¬ 
taneously arose — even the jealous King of France, and the 
sullen and offended Duke of Austria, arose with one consent, 
and the assembled princes burst forth with one voice in the 
1 Forget not thy afflicted spouse. 





186 


THE TALISMAN 


acclamation, “ God save King Richard of England ! Long life 
to the valiant Lion’s-heart! ” 

With a countenance frank and open as the summer sun 
when it rises, Richard distributed his thanks around, and con¬ 
gratulated himself on being once more among his royal brethren 
of the Crusades. 

“Some brief words he desired to say,” such was his address 
to the assembly, “though on a subject so unworthy as himself, 
even at the risk of delaying for a few minutes their consulta¬ 
tions for the weal of Christendom and the advancement of their 
holy enterprise.” 

The assembled princes resumed their seats, and there was a 
profound silence. 

“ This day,” continued the King of England, “ is a high 
festival of the Church; and well it becomes Christian men, at 
such a tide, to reconcile themselves with their brethren, and 
confess their faults to each other. Noble princes, and fathers j 
of this holy expedition, Richard is a soldier: his hand is ever j 
readier than his tongue, and his tongue is but too much used to the i 
rough language of his trade. But do not, for Plantagenet’s 1 
hasty speeches and ill-considered actions, forsake the noble cause j 
of the redemption of Palestine: do not throw away earthly j 
renown and eternal salvation, to be won here if ever they can 
be won by man, because the act of a soldier may have been j 
hasty, and his speech as hard as the iron which he has worn 1 
from childhood. Is Richard in default to any of you, Richard 
will make compensation both by word and action. Noble 
brother of France, have I been so unlucky as to offend 
you ? ” 

“ The Majesty of France has no atonement to seek from that 
of England,” answered Philip, with kingly dignity, accepting, 
at the same time, the offered hand of Richard; “and whatever 
opinion I may adopt concerning the prosecution of this enter¬ 
prise will depend on reasons arising out of the state of my own 



THE TALISMAN 


187 


kingdom, certainly on no jealousy or disgust at my royal and 
most valorous brother.” 

“ Austria,” said Richard, walking up to the Archduke with 
a mixture of frankness and dignity, while Leopold arose from 
his seat, as if involuntarily, and with the action of an autom¬ 
aton, 1 whose motions depended upon some external impulse 
— “Austria thinks he hath reason to be offended with Eng¬ 
land ; England, that he hath cause to complain of Austria. 
Let them exchange forgiveness, that the peace of Europe, and 
| the concord of this host, may remain unbroken. We are now 
joint-supporters of a more glorious banner than ever blazed 
before an earthly prince, even the Banner of Salvation; let not, 
therefore, strife be betwixt us for the symbol of our more 
worldly dignities; but let Leopold restore the pennon of Eng¬ 
land, if he has it in his power, and Richard will say, though 
I from no motive save his love for Holy Church, that he repents 
him of the hasty mood in which he did insult the standard of 
Austria.” 

The Archduke stood still, sullen and discontented, with his 
I eyes fixed on the floor, and his countenance lowering with 
: smothered displeasure, which awe, mingled with awkwardness, 

| prevented his giving vent to in words. 

The Patriarch of Jerusalem hastened to break the embar¬ 
rassing silence, and to bear witness for the Archduke of Austria, 
that he had exculpated himself, by a solemn oath, from all 
knowledge, direct or indirect, of the aggression done to the 
banner of England. 

“ Then we have done the noble Archduke the greater wrong,” 
said Richard; “and craving his pardon for imputing to him an out¬ 
rage so cowardly, we extend our hand to him in token of renewed 
peace and amity. But how is this ? Austria refuses our un¬ 
covered hand, as he formerly refused our mailed glove ? What! 
are we neither to be his mate in peace nor his antagonist in war ? 

1 Automaton: a self-moving machine. 



188 


THE TALISMAN 


Well, let it be so. We will take the slight esteem in which he 
holds us as a penance for aught which we may have done 
against him in heat of blood, and will therefore hold the account 
between us cleared.” 

So saying, he turned from the Archduke with an air rather 
of dignity than scorn, leaving the Austrian apparently as much 
relieved by the removal of his eye as is a sullen and truant 
schoolboy when the glance of his severe pedagogue is withdrawn. 

“Noble Earl of Champagne — princely Marquis of Montser- 
rat valiant Grand Master of the Templars, I am here a peni¬ 
tent in the confessional. Do any of you bring a charge, or 
claim amends from me ? ” 

“ I know not on what we could ground any,” said the smooth¬ 
tongued Conrade, “unless it were that the King of England 
carries off from his poor brothers of the war all the fame which 
they might have hoped to gain in the expedition.” 

My charge, if I am called on to make one,” said the Master 
of the Templars, “is graver and deeper than that of the Mar¬ 
quis of Montserrat. It may be thought ill to beseem a military 
monk such as I to raise his voice where so many noble princes 
remain silent; but it concerns our whole host, and not least 
this noble King of England, that he should hear from some one 
to his face those charges which there are enow to bring against j 
him in his absence. We laud and honor the courage and high 
achievements of the King of England, but we feel aggrieved i 
that he should, on all occasions, seize and maintain a precedence j 
and superiority over us which it becomes not independent | 
princes to submit to. Much we might yield of our free will to 
his bravery, his zeal, his wealth, and his power ; but he who 
snatches all, as matter of right, and leaves nothing to grant out 
of courtesy and favor, degrades us from allies into retainers and 
vassals, and sullies, in the eyes of our soldiers and subjects, the 
lustre of our authority which is no longer independently exer¬ 
cised. Since the royal Richard has asked the truth from us 



THE TALISMAN 


189 


he must neither be surprised nor angry when he hears one to 
whom worldly pomp is prohibited, and secular authority is 
nothing, saving so far as it advances the prosperity of God’s 
temple, and the prostration of the lion which goeth about seek¬ 
ing whom he may devour —when he hears, I say, such a one 
as I tell him the truth in reply to his question, which truth, 
even while I speak it, is, I know, confirmed by the heart of 
every one who hears me, however respect may stifle their 
voices.” 

Richard colored very highly while the Grand Master was 
making this direct and unvarnished attack upon his conduct, 
and the murmur of assent which followed it showed plainly 
that almost all who were present acquiesced in the justice of 
the accusation. Incensed, and at the same time mortified, he 
yet foresaw that to give way to his headlong resentment would 
be to give the cold and wary accuser the advantage over him 
which it was the Templar’s principal object to obtain. He, 
therefore, with a strong effort, remained silent till he had re¬ 
peated a paternoster, 1 being the course which his confessor had 
enjoined him to pursue, when anger was likely to obtain do¬ 
minion over him. The King then spoke with composure, 
though not without an embittered tone, especially at the outset. 

“ And is it even so 1 And are our brethren at such pains 
to note the infirmities of our natural temper, and the rough 
precipitance of our zeal, which may sometimes have urged us 
to issue commands when there was little time to hold counsel 1 
I could not have thought that offences casual and unpremedi¬ 
tated like mine could find such deep root in the hearts of my 
allies in this most holy cause, that for my sake they should 
withdraw their hand from the plough when the furrow was 
near the end, for my sake turn aside from the direct path to 
Jerusalem which their swords have opened. I vainly thought 
that my small services might have outweighed my rash errors; 

1 Paternoster: Our Father, the Lord’s Prayer. 


190 


THE TALISMAN 


that, if it were remembered that I pressed to the van in an 
assault, it would not be forgotten that I was ever the last in 
the retreat; that, if I elevated my banner upon conquered 
fields of battle, it was all the advantage that I sought, while 
others were dividing the spoil. I may have called the con¬ 
quered city by my name, but it was to others that I yielded 
the dominion. If I have been headstrong in urging bold 
counsels, I have not, methinks, spared my own blood or my 
people’s in carrying them into as bold execution; or if I have, 
in the hurry of march or battle, assumed a command over the 
soldiers of others, such have been ever treated as my own, 
when my wealth purchased the provisions and medicines 
which their own sovereigns could not procure. But it shames 
me to remind you of what all but myself seem to have for¬ 
gotten. Let us rather look forward to our future measures; 
and believe me, brethren,” he continued, his face kindling 
with eagerness, “you shall not find the pride, or the wrath, 
or the ambition of Richard a stumbling-block of offence in the 
path to which religion and glory summon you, as with the 
trumpet of an archangel. Oh no — no! never would I sur¬ 
vive the thought that my frailties and infirmities had been the 
means to sever this goodly fellowship of assembled princes. 
I would cut off my left hand with my right could my doing so 
attest my sincerity. I will yield up, voluntarily, all right to 
command in the host, even mine own liege subjects. They 
shall be led by such sovereigns as you may nominate, and 
their king, ever but too apt to exchange the leader’s baton for 
the adventurer’s lance, will serve under the banner of Beau- 
Seant among the Templars — ay, or under that of Austria, if 
Austria will name a brave man to lead his forces. Or, if ye 
are yourselves a-weary of this war, and feel your armor chafe 
your tender bodies, leave but with Richard some ten or fifteen 
thousand of your soldiers to work out the accomplishment of 
your vow; and when Zion is won,” he exclaimed, waving his 


THE TALISMAN 


191 


hand aloft, as if displaying the standard of the Cross over 
Jerusalem— “when Zion is won, we will write upon her gates, 
not the name of Richard Plantagenet, but of those generous 
princes who entrusted him with the means of conquest.” 

The rough eloquence and determined expression of the mili¬ 
tary monarch at once roused the drooping spirits of the 
Crusaders, reanimated their devotion, and, fixing their atten¬ 
tion on the principal object of the expedition, made most of 
them who were present blush for having been moved by such 
I petty subjects of complaint 'as had before engrossed them. 

Eye caught fire from eye, voice lent courage to voice. They 
j resumed, as with one accord, the war-cry with which the 
\ sermon of Peter the Hermit was echoed back, and shouted 
aloud : “ Lead us on, gallant Lion’s-heart, none so worthy to 
lead where brave men follow. Lead us on — to Jerusalem — to 
Jerusalem! It is the will of God — it is the will of God! 
Blessed is he who shall lend an arm to its fulfilment! ” 

The shout, so suddenly and generally raised, was heard be¬ 
yond the ring of sentinels who guarded the pavilion of council, 
and spread among the soldiers of the host, who, inactive and 
dispirited by disease and climate, had begun, like their leaders, 
to droop in resolution; but the reappearance of Richard in 
renewed vigor, and the well-known shout which echoed from 
the assembly of the princes, at once rekindled their enthusiasm, 
and thousands and tens of thousands answered with the same 
shout of “ Zion — Zion ! War— war ! — instant battle with 
the infidels ! It is the will of God — it is the will of God ! ” 
The acclamations from without increased in their turn the 
enthusiasm which prevailed within the pavilion. Those who 
did not actually catch the flame were afraid, at least for the 
time, to seem colder than others. There was no more speech 
except of a proud advance towards Jerusalem upon the expiry 
of the truce, and the measures to be taken in the meantime 
for supplying and recruiting the army. The council broke up, 



192 


THE TALISMAN 


all apparently filled with the same enthusiastic purpose, which, 
however, soon faded in the bosom of most, and never had an 
existence in that of others. 

Of the latter class were the Marquis Conrade and the Grand; 
Master of the Templars, who retired together to their quarters 
ill at ease, and malcontent with the events of the day. 

“ I ever told it to thee,” said the latter, with the cold, sar¬ 
donic expression peculiar to him, “ that Richard would bursti 
through the flimsy wiles you spread for him, as would a lion' 
through a spider’s web. Thou seest he has but to speak, and 
his breath agitates these fickle fools as easily as the whirlwind 
catcheth scattered straws and sweeps them together or dis-j 
perses them at its pleasure.” 

“ When the blast has passed away,” said Conrade, “ the 
straws, which it made dance to its pipe, will settle to earth; 
again.” 

“ But know’st thou not besides,” said the Templar, “ that it 
seems, if this new purpose of conquest shall be abandoned 
and pass away, and each mighty prince shall again be left to ’ 
such guidance as his own scanty brain can supply, Richard 
may yet probably become King of Jerusalem by compact, and 
establish those terms of treaty with the Soldan which thou 
thyself thought’st him so likely to spurn at 1 ” 

“ Now, by Mahound and Termagaunt, for Christian oaths 
are out of fashion,” said Conrade, “say’st thou the proud 
King of England would unite his blood with a heathen Soldan 1 
My policy threw in that ingredient to make the whole treaty 
an abomination to him. As bad for us that he become our 
master by an agreement as by victory.” 

“Thy policy hath ill calculated Richard’s digestion,” an¬ 
swered the Templar; “I know his mind by a whisper from the 
archbishop. And then thy master-stroke respecting yonder 
banner — it has passed off with no more respect than two 
cubits of embroidered silk merited. Marquis Conrade, thy 





T1IE TALISMAN 


193 


wit begins to halt ; I will trust thy fine-spun measures no 
longer, but will try my own. Know’st thou not the people 
i whom the Saracens call Charegites ? ” 1 

“ Surely,” answered the Marquis ; “ they are desperate and 
besotted enthusiasts, who devote their lives to the advancement 
of religion; somewhat like Templars, only they are never known 
to pause in the race of their calling.” 

;'r “Jest not,” answered the scowling monk; “know, that one 
of these men has set down in his bloody vow the name of the 
island emperor yonder, to be hewn down as the chief enemy of 
I the Moslem faith.” 

“ A most judicious paynim,” said Conrade. “ May Mahomet 
I send him his paradise for a reward ! ” 

“ He was taken in the camp by one of our squires, and, in 
i private examination, frankly avowed his fixed and determined 
, purpose to me,” said the Grand Master. 

“Now the Heavens pardon them who prevented the purpose 
of this most judicious Charegite ! ” answered Conrade. 

“He is my prisoner,” added the Templar, “and secluded 
from speech with others, as thou mayst suppose; but prisons 
have been broken-” 

“ Chains left unlocked, and captives have escaped,” answered 
the Marquis. “It is an ancient saying, ‘No sure dungeon but 
the grave.’ ” 

“ When loose he resumes his quest,” continued the military 
priest, “ for it is the nature of this sort of bloodhound never 
to quit the slot of the prey he has once scented.” 

“ Say no more of it,” said the Marquis ; “ I see thy policy 
— it is dreadful, but the emergency is imminent.” 

“I only told thee of it,” said the Templar, “ that thou mayst 
keep thyself on thy guard, for the uproar will be dreadful, and 
there is no knowing on whom the English may vent their rage. 
Ay, and there is another risk : my page knows the counsels of 
1 Charegites: a Mohammedan sect of the seventh century, 
o 




194 


THE TALISMAN 


this Charegite,” he continued; “and, moreover, he is a peevish, 
self-willed fool, whom I would I were rid of, as he thwarts me 
by presuming to see with his own eyes, not mine. But our 
holy Order gives me power to put a remedy to such incon¬ 
venience. Or stay : the Saracen may find a good dagger in his 
cell, and I warrant you he uses it so he breaks forth, which 
will be of a surety so soon as the page enters with his food.” 

“ It will give the affair a color,” said Conrade; “ and 
yet-” 

“ ‘ Yet ’ and ‘ but,’ ” said the Templar, “ are words for fools: 
wise men neither hesitate nor retract: they resolve and they 
execute.” 


CHAPTER XX 

When beauty leads the lion in her toils, 

Such are her charms, he dare not raise his mane, 

Far less expand the terror of his fangs. 

So great Alcides 1 made his club a distaff, 

And spun to please fair OmphalA 2 

Anonymous. 

Richard, the unsuspicious object of the dark treachery de¬ 
tailed in the closing part of the last chapter, having effected, 
for the present at least, the triumphant union of the Crusad¬ 
ing princes in a resolution to prosecute the war with vigor, 
had it next at heart to establish tranquillity in his own family; 
and, now that he could judge more temperately, to inquire 
distinctly into the circumstances leading to the los,s of his 
banner, and the nature and the extent of the connection be¬ 
twixt his kinswoman Edith and the banished adventurer from 
Scotland. 

1 Alcides: Hercules. See Greek mythology. 

2 Omphale: a queen of Lydia whom Hercules served as a slave for 
three years, wearing female apparel and spinning with the maids, while 
she wore his lion-skin. 



THE TALISMAN 


195 


Accordingly, the Queen and her household were startled 
with a visit from Sir Thomas de Yaux, requesting the present 
attendance of the Lady Calista of Montfaucon, the Queen’s 
principal bower 1 woman, upon King Richard. 

“ What am I to say, madam ? ” said the trembling attendant 
to the Queen. “ He will slay us all.” 

“ Nay,* fear not, madam,” said De Yaux. “ His Majesty 
hath spared the life of the Scottish knight, who was the chief 
offender, and bestowed him upon the Moorish physician : he 
will not be severe upon a lady, though faulty.” 

“Devise some cunning tale, wench,” said Berengaria. “My 
husband hath too little time to make inquiry into the truth.” 

“ Tell the tale as it really happened,” said Edith, “ lest I 
tell it for thee.” 

“With humble permission of her Majesty,” said De Yaux, 
“ I would say Lady Edith adviseth well; for although King 
Richard is pleased to believe what it pleases your Grace to 
tell him, yet I doubt his having the same deference for the 
Lady Calista, and in this especial matter.” 

“The Lord of Gilsland is right,” said the Lady Calista, 
much agitated at the thoughts of the investigation which was 
to take place; “ and, besides, if I had presence of mind enough 
to forge a plausible story, beshrew me if I think I should have 
the courage to tell it.” 

In this candid humor, the Lady Calista was conducted by 
De Yaux to the King, and made, as she had proposed, a full 
confession of the decoy by which the unfortunate Knight of 
the Leopard had been induced to desert his post; exculpating 
the Lady Edith, who, she was aware, would not fail to excul¬ 
pate herself, and laying the full burden on the Queen, her 
mistress, whose share of the frolic, she well knew, would ap¬ 
pear the most venial in the eyes of Coeur-de-Lion. In truth, 
Richard was a fond, almost an uxorious, husband. The first 
1 The bower meant a lady’s private apartment. 


19G 


THE TALISMAN 


burst of his wrath had long since passed away, and he was 
not disposed severely to censure what could not now be 
amended. The wily Lady Calista, accustomed from her earli¬ 
est childhood to fathom the intrigues of a court and watch the 
indications of a sovereign’s will, hastened back to the Queen 
with the speed of a lapwing, 1 charged with the King’s com¬ 
mands that she should expect a speedy visit from*him; to 
which the bower-lady added a commentary founded on her 
own observation, tending to show that Richard meant just to 
preserve so much severity as might bring his royal consort to 
repent of her frolic, and then to extend to her and all con¬ 
cerned his gracious pardon. 

“ Sits the wind in that corner, wench ? ” said the Queen, 
much relieved by this intelligence. “ Believe me that, great 
commander as he is, Richard will find it hard to circumvent, 
us in this matter; and that, as the Pyrenean shepherds are 
wont to say in my native Navarre, many a one comes for wool 
and goes back shorn.” 

Having possessed herself of all the information which 
Calista could communicate, the royal Berengaria arrayed her¬ 
self in her most becoming dress, and awaited with confidence 
the arrival of the heroic Richard. 

He arrived, and found himself in the situation of a prince 
entering an offending province in the confidence that his busi¬ 
ness will only be to inflict rebuke and receive submission, j 
when he unexpectedly finds it in a state of complete defiance< 
and insurrection. Berengaria well knew the power of her 
charms and the extent of Richard’s affection, and felt assured 
that she could make her own terms good, now that the first 
tremendous explosion of his anger had expended itself without, 
mischief. Far from listening to the King’s intended rebuke, 
as what the levity of her conduct had justly deserved, she 
extenuated, nay defended, as a harmless frolic, that which she' 
1 Lapwing: a bird. 



THE TALISMAN 


197 


was accused of. She denied, indeed, with many a pretty form 
of negation, that she had directed Nectabanus absolutely to 
entice the knight farther than the brink of the mount on 
which he kept watch — and indeed this was so far true, that 
she had not designed Sir Kenneth to be introduced into her 
tent; and then, eloquent in urging her own defence, the Queen 
was far more so in pressing upon Richard the charge of 
unkindness, in refusing her so poor a boon as the life of an 
unfortunate knight, who, by her thoughtless prank, had been 
brought within the danger of martial law. She wept and 
sobbed while she enlarged on her husband’s obduracy on this 
score, as a rigor which had threatened to make her unhappy 
for life, .whenever she should reflect that she had given, un¬ 
thinkingly, the remote cause for such a tragedy. The vision 
of the slaughtered victim would have haunted her dreams — 
nay, for aught she knew, since such things often happened, his 
actual spectre might have stood by her waking couch. To 
all this misery of the mind was she exposed by the severity 
of one who, while he pretended to dote upon her slightest 
glance, would not forego one act of poor revenge, though the 
issue was to render her miserable. 

All this flow of female eloquence was accompanied with the 
usual arguments of tears and sighs, and uttered with such 
tone and action as seemed to show that the Queen’s resent¬ 
ment arose neither from pride nor sullenness, but from feelings 
hurt at finding her consequence with her husband less than she 
had expected to possess. 

The good King Richard was considerably embarrassed. 
He tried in vain to reason wutli one whose very jealousy of 
his affection rendered her incapable of listening to argument, 
nor could he bring himself to use the restraint of lawful 
authority to a creature so beautiful in the midst of her unrea¬ 
sonable displeasure. He was, therefore, reduced to the de¬ 
fensive, endeavored gently to chide her suspicions and soothe 


198 


THE TALISMAN 


her displeasure, and recalled to her mind that she need not 
look back upon the past with recollections either of remorse 
or supernatural fear, since Sir Kenneth was alive and well, 
and had been bestowed by him upon the great Arabian physi¬ 
cian, who, doubtless, of all men, knew best how to keep him 
living. But this seemed the unkindest cut of all, and the j 
Queen’s sorrow was renewed at the idea of a Saracen — a medici- 
ner — obtaining a boon for which, with bare head and on 
bended knee, she had petitioned her husband in vain. At 
this new charge, Richard’s patience began rather to give way, 
and he said, in a serious tone of voice : “Berengaria, the physi¬ 
cian saved my life. If it is of value in your eyes, you will 
not grudge him a higher recompense than the only one I could 
prevail on him to accept.” 

The Queen was satisfied she had urged her coquettish dis-, 
pleasure to the verge of safety. 

“My Richard,” she said, “why brought you not that sage j 
to me, that England’s Queen might show how she esteemed him j 
who could save from extinction the lamp of chivalry, the glory I 
of England, and the light of poor Berengaria’s life and hope ? ” i 

In a word, the matrimonial dispute was ended; but, that 
some penalty might be paid to justice, both King and Queen j 
accorded in laying the whole blame on the agent Nectabanus, 
who (the Queen being by this time well weary of the poor ( 
dwarf’s humor) was, with his royal consort Guenevra, sen¬ 
tenced to be banished from the court; and the unlucky dwarf 
only escaped a supplementary whipping, from the Queen’s 
assurances that he had already sustained personal chastisement. 
It was decreed farther that, as an envoy was shortly to be 
despatched to Saladin, acquainting him with the resolution of 
the council to resume hostilities so soon as the truce was ended, 
and as Richard proposed to send a valuable present to the 
Soldan, in acknowledgment of the high benefit he had derived 
from the services of El Hakim, the two unhappy creatures 




THE TALISMAN 


199 


should be added to it as curiosities, which, from their extremely 
grotesque appearance, and the shattered state of their intel¬ 
lect, were gifts that might well pass between sovereign and 
sovereign. 

Richard had that day yet another female encounter to sus¬ 
tain ; but he advanced to it with comparative indifference, for 
Edith, though beautiful, and highly esteemed by her royal 
relative — nay, although she had from his unjust suspicions 
actually sustained the injury of which Berengaria only affected 
to complain — still was neither Richard’s wife nor mistress, and 
he feared her reproaches less, although founded in reason, than 
those of the Queen, though unjust and fantastical. Having 
requested to speak with her apart, he was ushered into her 
apartment, adjoining that of the Queen, whose two female 
Coptish slaves remained on their knees in the most remote 
corner during the interview. A thin black veil extended its 
ample folds over the tall and graceful form of the high-born 
maiden, and she wore not upon her person any female orna¬ 
ment of what kind soever. She arose and made a low rever¬ 
ence when Richard entered, resumed her seat at his command, 
and, when he sat down beside her, waited, without uttering a 
syllable, until he should communicate his pleasure. 

Richard, whose custom it was to be familiar with Edith, 
as their, relationship authorized, felt this reception chilling, 
and opened the conversation with some embarrassment. 

“Our fair cousin,” he at length said, “is angry with us; 
and we own that strong circumstances have induced us, without 
cause, to suspect her of conduct alien to what we have ever 
known in her course of life. But while we walk in this misty 
valley of humanity, men will mistake shadows for substances. 
Can my fair cousin not forgive her somewhat vehement kins¬ 
man, Richard?” 

“ Who can refuse forgiveness to Richard ’,” answered Edith, 
“provided Richard can obtain pardon of the king? ” 


200 


THE TALISMAN 


“ Come, my kinswoman,” replied Coeur-de-Lion, “ this is all 
too solemn. By Our Lady, such a melancholy countenance, and 
this ample sable veil, might make men think thou wert a new- 
made widow, or had lost a betrothed lover, at least. Cheer up; 
thou hast heard doubtless that there is no real cause for woe, 
why then keep up the form of mourning 1 ” 

“ For the departed honor of Plantagenet — for the glory 
which hath left my father’s house.” 

Richard frowned. “ Departed honor! glory which hath 
left our house ! ” he repeated, angrily ; “ but my cousin Edith 
is privileged. I have judged her too hastily, she has therefore 
a right to deem of me too harshly. But tell me at least in 
what I have faulted.” 

“ Plantagenet,” said Edith, “ should have either pardoned 
an offence or punished it. It misbecomes him to assign free 
men, Christians, and brave knights to the fetters of the in¬ 
fidels. It becomes him not to compromise and barter, or to 
grant life under the forfeiture of liberty. To have doomed 
the unfortunate to death might have been severity, but had a 
show of justice; to condemn him to slavery and exile was bare¬ 
faced tyranny.” 

“I see, my fair cousin,” said Richard, “you are of those 
pretty ones who think an absent lover as bad as none, or as 
a dead one. Be patient; half a score of light horsemen may 
yet follow and redeem the error, if thy gallant have in keep¬ 
ing any secret which might render his death more convenient 
than his banishment.” 

“Peace with thy scurrile jests,” answered Edith, coloring 
deeply. “Think rather that, for the indulgence of thy mood,, 
thou hast lopped from this great enterprise one goodly limb, 
deprived the Cross of one of its most brave supporters, and 
placed a servant of the true God in the hands of the heathen; 
hast given, too, to minds as suspicious as thou hast shown 
thine own in this matter some right to say that Richard Coeur- 


THE TALISMAN 


201 


de-Lion banished the bravest soldier in his camp, lest his name 
in battle might match his own.” 

“I — I !” exclaimed Richard, now indeed greatly moved — 
“am I one to be jealous of renown ? I would he were here to 
profess such an equality! I would waive my rank and my 
crown, and meet him, manlike, in the lists, that it might ap¬ 
pear whether Richard Plantagenet had room to fear or to envy 
the prowess of mortal man. Come, Edith, thou think’st not 
as thou say’st. Let not anger or grief for the absence of thy 
lover make thee unjust to thy kinsman, who, notwithstanding 
all thy tetchiness, values thy good report as high as that of 
any one living.” 

“ The absence of my lover ! ” said the Lady Edith. “ But 
yes, he may be well termed my lover who hath paid so dear for 
the title. Unworthy as I might be of such homage, I was 
to him like a light, leading him forward in the noble path of 
chivalry; but that I forgot my rank, or that he presumed be¬ 
yond his, is false, were a king to speak it.” 

“My fair cousin,” said Richard, “do not put words in my 
mouth which I have not spoken. I said not you had graced 
this man beyond the favor which a good knight may earn, 
even from a princess, whatever be his native condition. But, 
by Our Lady, I know something of this love-gear: it begins 
with mute respect and distant reverence, but when opportuni¬ 
ties occur, familiarity increases, and so- But it skills not 

talking with one who thinks herself wiser than all the world.” 

“ My kinsman’s counsels I willingly listen to when they are 
such,” said Edith, “ as convey no insult to my rank and char¬ 
acter.” 

“Kings, my fair cousin, do not counsel, but rather com¬ 
mand,” said Richard. 

“Soldans do indeed command,” said Edith, “but it is be- 
l cause they have slaves to govern.” 

“ Come, you might learn to lay aside this scorn of soldanrie, 



202 


THE TALISMAN 


when you hold so high of a Scot,” said the King. “ I hold 
Saladin to be truer to his word than this William of Scotland, 
who must needs be called a Lion forsooth: he hath foully 
faulted towards me, in failing to send the auxiliary aid he 
promised. Let me tell thee, Edith, thou mayst live to prefer 
a true Turk to a false Scot.” 

“No — never!” answered Edith, “not should Richard him¬ 
self embrace the false religion, which he crossed the seas to 
expel from Palestine.” 

“ Thou wilt have the last word,” said Richard, “ and thou : 
shalt have it. Even think of me what thou wilt, pretty Edith. 

I shall not forget that we are near and dear cousins.” 

So saying, he took his leave in fair fashion, but very little 
satisfied with the result of his visit. 

It was the fourth day after Sir Kenneth had been dismissed j 
from the camp; and King Richard sat in his pavilion, enjoy- j 
ing an evening breeze from the west, which, with unusual j 
coolness on her wings, seemed breathed from Merry England jj 
for the refreshment of her adventurous monarch, as he was j 
gradually recovering the full strength which was necessary to ’ 
carry on his gigantic projects. There was no one with him, J 
De Yaux having been sent to Ascalon to bring up reinforce¬ 
ments and supplies of military munition, and most of his other 
attendants being occupied in different departments, all pre¬ 
paring for the reopening of hostilities, and for a grand pre- j 
paratory review of the army of the Crusaders, which was to 
take place the next day. The King sat listening to the busy 
hum among the soldiery, the clatter from the forges, where 
horseshoes were preparing, and from the tents of the armorers, 
who were repairing harness; the voice of the soldiers too, as 
they passed and repassed, was loud and cheerful, carrying with j 
its very tone an assurance of high and excited courage, and an j 
omen of approaching victory. While Richard’s ear drank in I 




THE TALISMAN 


203 


these sounds with delight, and while he yielded himself to the 
visions of conquest and of glory which they suggested, an 
equerry told him that a messenger from Saladin waited 
without. 

“Admit him instantly,” said the King, “and with due 
honor, Josceline.” 

The English knight accordingly introduced a person, appar¬ 
ently of no higher rank than a Nubian slave, whose appearance 
was nevertheless highly interesting. He was of superb stature 
and nobly formed, and his commanding features, although 
almost jet-black, showed nothing of negro descent. He wore 
over his coal-black locks a milk-white turban, and over his 
shoulders a short mantle of the same color, open in front and 
at the sleeves, under which appeared a doublet of dressed 
leopard’s skin reaching within a handbreadth of the knee. 
The rest of his muscular limbs, both legs and arms, were bare, 
excepting that he had sandals on his feet, and wore a collar 
and bracelets of silver. A straight broadsword, with a handle 
of boxwood, and a sheath covered with snake-skin, was sus¬ 
pended from his waist. In his right hand he held a short 
javelin, with a broad, bright, steel head, of a span in length, 
and in his left he led, by a leash of twisted silk and gold, a 
large and noble staghound. 

The messenger prostrated himself, at the same time par¬ 
tially uncovering his shoulders, in sign of humiliation, and 
having touched the earth with his forehead, arose so far as to 
rest on one knee, while he delivered to the King a silken 
napkin, inclosing another of cloth of gold, within which was 
a letter from Saladin in the original Arabic, with a translation 
into Norman-English, which may be modernized thus: 

“ Saladin, King of Kings, to Melech Ric, the Lion of Eng¬ 
land. Whereas, we are informed by thy last message that 
thou hast chosen war rather than peace, and our enmity rather 



204 


THE TALISMAN 


than Qur friendship, we account thee as one blinded in this 
matter, and trust shortly to convince thee of thine error, by 
the help of our invincible forces of the thousand tribes, when 
Mohammed, the Prophet of God, and Allah, the God of the 
Prophet, shall judge the controversy betwixt us. In what re¬ 
mains, we make noble account of thee, and of the gifts which 
thou hast sent us, and of the two dwarfs, singular in their de- | 
formity as Ysop, and mirthful as the lute of Isaack. And in 
requital of these tokens from the treasure-house of thy bounty, 
behold we have sent thee a Nubian slave, of whom judge not 
by his complexion, according to the foolish ones of the earth, 
in respect the dark-rinded fruit hath the most exquisite flavor. 
Know that he is strong to execute the will of his master, also he 
is wise to give counsel when thou shalt learn to hold communi¬ 
cation with him, for the lord of speech hath been stricken with 
silence betwixt the ivory walls of his palace. We commend 4 
him to thy care, hoping the hour may not be distant when he 
may render thee good service. And herewith we bid thee 
farewell; trusting that our most holy Prophet may yet call 
thee to a sight of the truth, failing which illumination, our 
desire is, for the speedy restoration of thy royal health, that 
Allah may judge between thee and us in a plain field of 
battle.” 

And the missive was sanctioned by the signature and seal of 
the Soldan. 

Richard surveyed the Nubian in silence as he stood before | 
him, his looks bent upon the ground, his arms folded on his 
bosom, with the appearance of a black marble statue of the I 
most exquisite workmanship, waiting life from the touch of a ' 
Prometheus. 1 The King of England, who, as it was emphati¬ 
cally said of his successor Henry the Eighth, loved to look 
upon a man, was well pleased with the thews, sinews, and 
1 See Longfellow’s Masque of Pandora. 


THE TALISMAN 


205 


symmetry of him whom he now surveyed, and questioned him 
j in the lingua franca, “Art thou a pagan? ” 

The slave shook his head, and raising his finger to his brow, 
crossed himself in token of his Christianity, then resumed his 
I posture of motionless humility. 

“A Nubian Christian, doubtless,” said Richard, “and mu- 
; tilated of the organ of speech by these heathen dogs ? ” 

The mute again slowly shook his head, in token of negative, 
pointed with his forefinger to Heaven, and then laid it upon 
I his own lips. 

“ I understand thee,” said Richard ; “ thou dost suffer under 
the infliction of God, not by the cruelty of man. Canst thou 
J clean an armor and belt, and buckle it in time of need ? ” 
j The mute nodded, and stepping towards the coat of mail, 
{ which hung, with the shield and helmet of the chivalrous 
monarch, upon the pillar of the tent, he handled it with such 
j nicety of address as sufficiently to show that he fully under¬ 
stood the business of the armor-bearer. 

“ Thou art an apt, and wilt doubtless be a useful, knave; 
thou shalt wait in my chamber, and on my person,” said the 
King, “ to show how much I value the gift of the royal Soldan. 
If thou hast no tongue, it follows thou canst carry no tales, 
neither provoke me to be sudden by any unfit reply.” 

The Nubian again prostrated himself till his brow touched 
the earth, then stood erect, at some paces distant, as waiting 
for his new master’s commands. 

“Nay, thou shalt commence thy office presently,” said 
Richard, “ for I see a speck of rust darkening on that shield; 
and when I shake it in the face of Saladin, it should be bright 
and unsullied as the Soldan’s honor and mine own.” 

A horn was winded without, and presently Sir Henry Neville 
|entered with a packet of despatches. “From England, my 
lord,” he said, as he delivered it. 

“ From England — our own England ! ” repeated Richard, in 




206 


THE TALISMAN 


a tone of melancholy enthusiasm. “ Alas ! they little think 
how hard their sovereign has been beset by sickness and sorrow, 
faint friends and forward enemies.” Then opening the de¬ 
spatches, he said hastily: “ Ha ! this comes from no peaceful j 
land: they too have their feuds. Neville, begone; I must ! 
peruse these tidings alone, and at leisure.” 

Neville withdrew accordingly, and Richard was soon absorbed j 
in the melancholy details which had been conveyed to him from j 
England, concerning the factions that were tearing to pieces 
his native dominions : the disunion of his brothers, John and : 
Geoffrey, and the quarrels of both with the High Justiciary | 
Longchamp, Bishop of Ely; the oppressions practised by the j 
nobles upon the peasantry, and rebellion of the latter against 
their masters, which had produced everywhere scenes of discord, i 
and in some instances the effusion of blood. Details of incidents j 
mortifying to his pride, and derogatory from his authority, were i 
intermingled with the earnest advice of his wisest and most j| 
attached counsellors, that he should presently return to Eng-jj 
land, as his presence offered the only hope of saving the king- |ji 
dom from all the horrors of civil discord, of which France and , 
Scotland were likely to avail themselves. Filled with the most f| 
painful anxiety, Richard read, and again read, the ill-omened |j 
letters, compared the intelligence which some of them contained L 
with the same facts as differently stated in others, and soon j 
became totally insensible to whatever was passing around him, j 
although seated, for the sake of coolness, close to the entrance ( 
of his tent, and having the curtains withdrawn, so that he ( 
could see and be seen by the guards and others who were ( 
stationed without. j 

Deeper in the shadow of the pavilion, and busied with the j 
task his new master had imposed, sat the Nubian slave, with ! 
his back rather turned towards the King. He had finished 
adjusting and cleaning the hauberk and brigandine, and was j 
now busily employed on a broad pavesse, or buckler, of unusual 




THE TALISMAN 


207 


(size, and covered with steel-plating, which Richard often used 
in reconnoitring, or actually storming fortified places, as a more 
j! effectual protection against missile weapons than the narrow 
lj triangular shield used on horseback. This pavesse bore neither 
;the royal lions of England nor any other device, to attract the 
observation of the defenders of the walls against which it was 
! advanced; the care, therefore, of the armorer was addressed 
to causing its surface to shine as bright as crystal, in which he 
seemed to be peculiarly successful. Beyond the Nubian, and 
scarce visible from without, lay the large dog, which might be 
termed his brother slave, and which, as if he felt awed by being 
transferred to a royal owner, was couched close to the side of 
the mute, with head and ears on the ground, and his limbs and 
tail drawn close around and under him. 

While the monarch and his new attendant were thus oc¬ 
cupied, another actor crept upon the scene, and mingled among 
the group of English yeomen, about a score of whom, respect¬ 
ing the unusually pensive posture and close occupation of their 
sovereign, were, contrary to their wont, keeping a silent guard 
in front of his tent. It was not, however, more vigilant than 
usual. Some were playing at games of hazard with small 
pebbles, others spoke together in whispers of the approaching 
day of battle, and several lay asleep, their bulky limbs folded 
in their green mantles. 

Amid these careless warders glided the puny form of a little 
old Turk, poorly dressed like a marabout 1 or santon of the 
desert — a sort of enthusiasts, who sometimes ventured into 
the camp of the Crusaders, though treated always with con¬ 
tumely, and often with violence. Indeed, the luxury and 
profligate indulgence of the Christian leaders had occasioned 
a motley concourse in their tents of musicians, courtezans, 
Jewish merchants, Copts, Turks, and all the varied refuse of 
the Eastern.nations; so that the caftan and turban, though to 
i Marabout; a Mohammedan saint. 






208 


THE TALISMAN 


drive both from the Holy Land was the professed object of 
the expedition, were nevertheless neither an uncommon nor an 
alarming sight in the camp of the Crusaders. When, however, 
the little insignificant figure we have described approached so 
nigh as to receive some interruption from the warders, he dashed 
his dusky green turban from his head, showed that his beard 
and eyebrows were shaved like those of a professed buffoon, and 
that the expression of his fantastic and writhen features, as 
well as of his little black eyes, which glittered like jet, was 
that of a crazed imagination. 

“Dance, marabout,” cried the soldiers, acquainted with the 
manners of these wandering enthusiasts — “ dance, or we will 
scourge thee with our bow-strings, till thou spin as never top 
did under schoolboy’s lash.” Thus shouted the reckless warders, 
as much delighted at having a subject to teaze as a child when 
he catches a butterfly, or a schoolboy upon discovering a bird’s 
nest. 

The marabout, as if happy to do their behests, bounded 
from the earth and spun his giddy round before them with 
singular agility, which, when contrasted with his slight and 
wasted figure, and diminutive appearance, made him resemble ! 
a withered leaf twirled round and around at the pleasure of the 
winter’s breeze. His single lock of hair streamed upwards from : 
his bald and shaven head, as if some genie upheld him by it; 
and indeed it seemed as if supernatural art were necessary to | 
the execution of the wild whirling dance, in which scarce the : 
tiptoe of the performer was seen to touch the ground. Amid ; 
the vagaries of his performance, he flew here and there, from | 
one spot to another, still approaching, however, though almost ; 
imperceptibly, to the entrance of the royal tent; so that, when ! 
at length he sunk exhausted on the earth, after two or three ' 
bounds still higher than those which he had yet executed he i 
was not above thirty yards from the King’s person. There was | 
a laugh among the yeomen who witnessed this, so obstreperous 1 


THE TALISMAN 


209 


as to rouse and disturb the King, who, raising his finger, said, 
angrily: “How, knaves, no respect, no observance?” 

At the same moment, the monarch darted an impatient 
glance to the spot, and all retreated in haste, leaving the 
dervise on the ground, unable, as it seemed, to stir a single 
limb or joint of his body. In a moment afterward, all was as 
still and quiet as it had been before the intrusion. 

CHAPTER XXI 

And wither’d murder, 

Alarum’d by his sentinel, the wolf, 

Whose howl’s his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, 

With Tarquin’s ravishing strides, towards his design 
Moves like a ghost. Macbeth. 

For the space of a quarter of an hour, or longer, after the 
incident related, all remained perfectly quiet in the front of the 
royal habitation. The King read, and mused in the entrance 
of his pavilion; behind, and with his back turned to the same 
entrance, the Nubian slave still burnished the ample pavesse; 
in front of all, at an hundred paces distant, the yeomen of the 
guard stood, sat, or lay extended on the grass, attentive to their 
own sports, but pursuing them in silence, while on the espla¬ 
nade betwixt them and the front of the tent lay, scarcely to be 
distinguished from a bundle of rags, the senseless form of the 
marabout. 

But the Nubian had the advantage of a mirror, from the 
brilliant reflection which the surface of the highly polished 
shield now afforded, by means of which he beheld, to his alarm 
and surprise, that the marabout raised his head gently from the 
ground, so as to survey all around him, moving with a well- 
adjusted precaution, which seemed entirely inconsistent with a 
state of ebriety. He couched his head instantly, as if satisfied 



210 


THE TALISMAN 


he was unobserved, and began, with the slightest possible j 
appearance of voluntary effort, to drag himself, as if by chance, 
ever nearer and nearer to the King, but stopping, and remain-! 
ing fixed at intervals, like the spider, which, moving towards 
her object, collapses into apparent lifelessness when she thinks 
she is the subject of observation. This species of movement 
appeared suspicious to the Ethiopian, who, on his part, pre¬ 
pared himself, as quietly as possible, to interfere, the instant: 
that interference should seem to be necessaiy. 

The marabout meanwhile glided on gradually and imper¬ 
ceptibly, serpent-like, or rather snail-like, till he was about ten j 
yards’ distance from Richard’s person, when, starting on his 
feet, he sprung forward with the bound of a tiger, stood at the 
King’s back in less than an instant, and brandished aloft the 
cangiar, or poniard, which he had hidden in his sleeve. Not 
the presence of his whole army could have saved their heroic I 
monarch; but the motions of the Nubian had been as well cal¬ 
culated as those of the enthusiast, and ere the latter could 
strike, the former caught his uplifted arm. Turning his fa¬ 
natical wrath upon what thus unexpectedly interposed betwixt 
him and his object, the Charegite, for such was the seeming 
marabout, dealt the Nubian a blow with the dagger, which 
however, only grazed his arm, while the far superior strength 
of the Ethiopian easily dashed him to the ground. Aware of 
what had passed, Richard had now arisen, and, with little more 
of surprise, anger, or interest of any kind in his countenance 
than an ordinary man would show in brushing off and crushing 1 
an intrusive wasp, caught up the stool on which he had been 
sitting, and exclaiming only,. “ Ha, dog! ” dashed almost to 
P ieces ^e skull of the assassin, who uttered twice, once in a 
loud and once in a broken tone, the words “ Allah Ackbar” 
(God is victorious) and expired at the King’s feet. 

“ Ye are careful warders,” said Richard to his archers, in a 
tone of scornful reproach, as, aroused by the bustle of what had 



THE TALISMAN 


211 


passed, in terror and tumult they now rushed into his tent — 
“ watchful sentinels ye are, to leave me to do such hangman’s 
work with my own hand. Be silent all of you, and cease your 
senseless clamor; saw ye never a dead Turk before ? Here — 
cast that carrion out of the camp, strike the head from the 
trunk, and stick it on a lance, taking care to turn the face to 
i Mecca, that he may the easier tell the foul impostor, on whose 
j inspiration he came hither, how he has sped on his errand. 

I For thee, my swart and silent friend-” he added, turning 

I to the Ethiopian. “ But how’s this ! thou art wounded ; and 
with a poisoned weapon, I warrant me, for by force of stab so 
Iweak an animal as that could scarce hope to do more than 
[graze the lion’s hide. Suck the poison from his wound one of 
i you : the venom is harmless on the lips, though fatal when it 
mingles with the blood.” 

The yeomen looked on each other confusedly and with hesita¬ 
tion, the apprehension of so strange a danger prevailing with 
I those who feared no other. 

“ How now, sirrahs,” continued the King, “ are you dainty¬ 
lipped, or do you fear death, that you dally thus ? ” 

“Not the death of a man,” said Long Allen, to whom the 
King looked as he spoke ; “ but methinks I would not die like 
a poisoned rat for the sake of a black chattel there, that is 
bought and sold in a market like a Martlemas 1 ox.” 

“ His Grace speaks to men of sucking poison,” muttered 
another yeoman, “ as if he said, ‘ Go to, swallow a gooseberry ’! ” 

“Nay,” said Richard, “I never bade man do that which I 
would not do myself.” 

And, without farther ceremony, and in spite of the general 
expostulations of those around, and the respectful opposition 
of the Nubian himself, the King of England applied his lips 
to the wound of the black slave, treating with ridicule all 
remonstrances and overpowering all resistance. He had no 

1 Martlemas: the feast of St. Martin, the eleventh of November. 





212 


THE TALISMAN 


sooner intermitted his singular occupation than the Nubian 
started from him, and, casting a scarf over his arm, intimated 
by gestures, as firm in purpose as they were respectful in man¬ 
ner, his determination not to permit the monarch to renew so 
degrading an employment. 

Long Allen also interposed, saying, that “ If it were necessary 
to prevent the King engaging again in a treatment of this kind, 
his own lips, tongue, and teeth were at the service of the 
negro (as he called the Ethiopian), and that he would eat him 
up bodily, rather than King Richard’s mouth should again 
approach him.” 

Neville, who entered with other officers, added his remon¬ 
strances. 

“Nay — nay, make not a needless halloo about a hart that 
the hounds have lost, or a danger when it is over,” said the 
King; “the wound will be a trifle, for the blood is scarce 
drawn — an angry cat had dealt a deeper scratch; and for me, 
I have but to take a drachm of orvietan 1 by way of precaution, 
though it is needless.” 

Thus spoke Richard, a little ashamed, perhaps, of his own 
condescension, though sanctioned both by humanity and grati¬ 
tude. But when Neville continued to make remonstrances on 
the peril to his royal person, the King imposed silence on him. 

“ Peace, I prithee, make no more of it; I did it but to show 
these ignorant prejudiced knaves how they might help each 
other when these cowardly caitiffs come against us with sarba- 
canes and poisoned shafts. But,” he added, “ take thee this 
Nubian to thy quarters, Neville. I have changed my mind 
touching him; let him be well cared for. But, hark in thine 
ear — see that he escapes thee not; there is more in him than 
seems. Let him have all liberty, so that he leave not the 
camp. And you, ye beef-devouring, wine-swilling English 
mastiffs, get ye to your guard again, and be sure you keep it 
1 Orvietan: an antidote to poison. 



THE TALISMAN 


213 


more warily. Think not you are now in your own land of fair 
play, where men speak before they strike, and shake hands ere 
I they cut throats. Danger in our land walks openly, and with 
his blade drawn, and defies the foe whom he means to assault; 
but here, he challenges you with a silk glove instead of a steel 
; gauntlet, cuts your throat with the feather of a turtle-dove, 

| stabs you with the tongue of a priest’s brooch, or throttles you 
with the lace of my lady’s bodice. Go to, keep your eyes open 
and your mouths shut, drink less and look sharper about you ; 
or I will place your huge stomachs on such short allowance as 
I would pinch the stomach of a patient Scottishman.” 

The yeomen, abashed and mortified, withdrew to their post, 

I and Neville was beginning to remonstrate with his master upon 
i the risk of passing over thus slightly their negligence upon their 
duty, and the propriety of an example in a case so peculiarly 
aggravated as the permitting one so suspicious as the marabout 
\ to approach within dagger’s length of his person, when Richard 
interrupted him with: “ Speak not of it, Neville; wouldst 
| thou have me avenge a petty risk to myself more severely than 
the loss of England’s banner? It has been stolen — stolen by 
| a thief, or delivered up by a traitor, and no blood has been shed 
for it. My sable friend, thou art an expounder of mysteries, 
saith the illustrious Soldan; now would I give thee thine own 
weight in gold, if, by raising one still blacker than thyself, 
or by what other means thou wilt, thou couldst show me 
the thief who did mine honor that wrong. What say’st thou 
— ha?” 

The mute seemed desirous to speak, but uttered only that 
[imperfect sound proper to his melancholy condition, then folded 
| his arms, looked on the King with an eye of intelligence, and 
nodded in answer to his question. 

“ How ! ” said Richard, with joyful impatience. “ Wilt 
thou undertake to make discovery in this matter?” 

The Nubian slave repeated the same motion. 




214 


THE TALISMAN 


“ But how shall we understand each other 1 ” said the King. 
“ Canst thou write, good fellow ? ” 

The slave again nodded in assent. 

“ Give him writing-tools,” said the King. “ They were 
readier in my father’s tent than mine, but they be somewhere 
about, if this scorching climate have not dried up the ink. Why, 
this fellow is a jewel — a black diamond, Neville.” 

“So please you, my liege,” said Neville, “if I might speak 
my poor mind, it were ill dealing in this ware. This man must 
be a wizard, and wizards deal with the Enemy, who hath most 
interest to sow tares among the wheat, 1 and bring dissension 
into our councils, and-” 

“Peace, Neville,” said Richard. “Halloo to your Northern 
hound when he is close on the haunch of the deer, and hope to 
recall him, but seek not to stop Plantagenet when he hath hope 
to retrieve his honor.” 

The slave, who during this discussion had been writing, in 
which art he seemed skilful, now arose, and pressing what he 
had written to his brow, prostrated himself as usual, ere he 
delivered it into the King’s hands. The scroll was in French, 
although their intercourse had hitherto been conducted by 
Richard in the lingua franca. 

“To Richard, the conquering and invincible King of Eng¬ 
land, this from the humblest of his slaves. Mysteries are the 
sealed caskets of Heaven, but wisdom may devise means to 
open the lock. Were your slave stationed where the leaders 
of the Christian host were made to pass before him in order, 
doubt nothing that, if he who did the injury whereof my 
King complains shall be among the number, he may be made 
manifest in his iniquity, though it be hidden under seven veils.” 

“Now, by St. George!” said King Richard, “thou hast 
spoken most opportunely. Neville, thou know’st that, when 
1 Matthew xiii. 24-30. 



THE TALISMAN 


215 


we muster our troops to-morrow,' the princes have agreed that, 
to expiate the affront offered to England in the theft of her 
banner, the leaders should pass our new standard as it floats 
on St. George’s Mount, and salute it with formal regard. Be¬ 
lieve me, the secret traitor will not dare to absent himself from 
an expurgation so solemn, lest his very absence should be mat¬ 
ter of suspicion. There will we place our sable man of counsel, 
and, if his art can detect the villain, leave me to deal with 
him.” 

“ My liege,” said Neville, with the frankness of an English 
baron, “ beware what work you begin. Here is the concord of 
our holy league unexpectedly renewed; will you, upon such 
suspicion as a negro slave can instil, tear open wounds so lately 
closed, or will you use the solemn procession, adopted for the 
reparation of your honor, and establishment of unanimity 
amongst the discording princes, as the means of again finding 
out new cause of offence, or reviving ancient quarrels? It 
were scarce too strong to say, this were a breach of the dec¬ 
laration your Grace made to the assembled council of the 
Crusade.” 

“Neville,” said the King, sternly interrupting him, “thy 
zeal makes thee presumptuous and unmannerly. Never did I 
promise to abstain from taking whatever means were most 
promising to discover the infamous author of the attack on my 
honor. Ere I had done so, I would have renounced my king¬ 
dom — my life. All my declarations were under this necessary 
and absolute qualification; only, if Austria had stepped forth 
and owned the injury like a man, I proffered, for the sake of 
Christendom, to have forgiven him.” 

“But,” continued the baron, anxiously, “what hope that 
this juggling slave of Saladin will not palter with your Grace?” 

“ Peace, Neville,” said the King; “ thou think’st thyself 
mighty wise and art but a fool. Mind thou my charge touch¬ 
ing this fellow; there is more in him than thy Westmoreland 



216 


THE TALISMAN 


wit can fathom. And thou, swart and silent, prepare to per¬ 
form the feat thou hast promised, and, by the word of a king, 
thou shalt choose thine own recompense. Lo, he writes again.” 

The mute accordingly wrote and delivered to the King, with 
the same form as before, another slip of paper, containing 
these words : “ The will of the King is the law to his slave; 
nor doth it become him to ask guerdon for discharge of his 
devoir.” 

Guerdon 1 and devoir 1 ” 2 said the King, interrupting him¬ 
self as he read, and speaking to Neville in the English tongue, 
with some emphasis on the words. “These Eastern people 
will profit by the Crusaders : they are acquiring the language 
of chivalry. And see, Neville, how discomposed -that fellow 
looks; were it not for his color he would blush. I should 
not think it strange if he understood what I say: they are j 
perilous linguists.” 

“The poor slave cannot endure your Grace’s eye,” said ( 
Neville; “it is nothing more.” I 

“ Well, but,” continued the King, striking the paper with I 
his finger, as he proceeded, “ this bold scroll proceeds to say, 
that our trusty mute is charged with a message from Saladin 
to the Lady Edith Plantagenet, and craves means and oppor¬ 
tunity to deliver it. What think’st thou of a request sol 
modest — ha, Neville?” 

“ I cannot say,” said Neville, “ how such freedom may, 
relish with your Grace; but the lease of the messenger’s neckl 
would be a short one, who should carry such a request to the, 
Soldan on the part of your Majesty.” tf L 

“Nay, I thank Heaven that I covet none of his sunburntj |( 
beauties,” said Richard; “ and for punishing this fellow foil 
discharging his master’s errand, and that when he has just 
saved my life, methinks it were something too summary. I’ll 

1 Guerdon: recompense. ' S3 

2 Devoir: duty. U 




THE TALISMAN 


217 


tell thee, Neville, a secret — for, although our sable and mute 
minister be present, he cannot, thou know’st, tell it over again, 
even if he should chance to understand us — I tell thee, that 
for this fortnight past I have been under a strange spell, and 
I would I were disenchanted. There has no sooner any one 
done me good service, but lo you, he cancels his interest in me 
by some deep injury; and, on the other hand, he who hath 
deserved death at my hands for some treachery or some insult 
is sure to be the very person, of all others, who confers upon 
me some obligation that overbalances his demerits, and renders 
respite of his sentence a debt due from my honor. Thus, 
thou seest, I am deprived of the best part of my royal func¬ 
tion, since I cah neither punish men nor reward them. Until 
the influence of this disqualifying planet be passed away, I 
will say nothing concerning the request of this our sable 
attendant, save that it is an unusually bold one, and that his 
best chance of finding grace in our eyes will be, to endeavor 
to make the discovery which he proposes to achieve in our 
behalf. Meanwhile, Neville, do thou look well to him, and 
let him be honorably cared for. And hark thee once more,” 
he said in a low whisper, “ seek out yonder hermit of Engaddi, 
and bring him to me forthwith, be he saint or savage, mad-. 
man or sane. Let me see him privately.” 

Neville retired from the royal tent, signing to the Nubian 
to follow him, and much surprised at what he had seen and 
| heard, and especially at the unusual demeanor of the King. 
In general, no task was so easy as to discover Richard’s imme¬ 
diate course of sentiment and feeling, though it might, in 
isome cases, be difficult to calculate its duration; for no 
weather-cock obeyed the changing wind more readily than the 
King his gusts of passion. But, on the present occasion, his 
manner seemed unusually constrained and mysterious, nor was 
it easy to guess whether displeasure or kindness predominated 
in his conduct towards his new dependant, or in the looks with 


218 


THE TALISMAN 


which, from time to time, he regarded him. The ready ser¬ 
vice which the King had rendered to counteract the bad effects 
of the Nubian’s wound might seem to balance the obligation 
conferred on him by the slave, when he intercepted the blow 
of the assassin; but it seemed, as a much longer account re¬ 
mained to be arranged between them, that the monarch was 
doubtful whether the settlement might leave him, upon the 
whole, debtor or creditor, and that, therefore, he assumed, in 
the meantime, a neutral demeanor, which might suit with 
either character. As for the Nubian, by whatever means he 
had acquired the art of writing the European languages, the 
King remained convinced that the English tongue at least was 
unknown to him, since, having watched him closely during the 
last part of the interview, he conceived it impossible for any 
one understanding a conversation, of which he was himself the 
subject, to have so completely avoided the appearance of taking 
an interest in it. 


CHAPTER XXII 

Who’s there ? Approach — ’tis kindly done — 

My learned physician and a friend. 

Sir Eustace Grey. 

Our narrative retrogrades to a period shortly previous to the 
incidents last mentioned, when, as the reader must remember, 
the unfortunate Knight of the Leopard, bestowed upon the 
Arabian physician by King Richard, rather as a slave than in 
any other capacity, was exiled from the camp of the Crusaders, 
in whose ranks he had so often and so brilliantly distinguished 
himself. He followed his new master, for so we must now 
term the Hakim, to the Moorish tents which contained his 
retinue and his property, with the stupefied feelings of one 
who, fallen from the summit of a precipice, and escaping unex¬ 
pectedly with life, is just able to drag himself from the fatal 


THE TALISMAN 


219 


spot, but without the power of estimating the extent of the 
damage which he has sustained. Arrived at the tent, he 
threw himself, without speech of any kind, upon a couch of 
dressed buffalo’s hide, which was pointed out to him by his 
conductor, and, hiding his face betwixt his hands, groaned 
heavily, as if his heart were on the point of bursting. The 
physician heard him, as he was giving orders to his numerous 
domestics to prepare for their departure the next morning 
before daybreak, and, moved with compassion, interrupted his 
occupation to sit down, cross-legged, by the side of his couch, 
and administer comfort according to the Oriental manner. 

“My friend,” he said, “be of good comfort; for what sayeth 
the poet: ‘ It is better that a man should be the servant of a 
kind master than the slave of his own wild passions.’ ” 

Sir Kenneth made an effort to thank the Hakim; but his 
heart was too full, and the indistinct sounds which accompanied 
his abortive attempts to reply induced the kind physician to 
desist from his premature endeavors at consolation. He left 
his new domestic, or guest, in quiet, to indulge his sorrows, 
and having commanded all the necessary preparations for their 
departure on the morning, sat down upon the carpet of the tent 
and indulged himself in a moderate repast. After he had thus 
refreshed himself, similar viands were offered to the Scottish 
knight; but though the slaves let him understand that the 
next day would be far advanced ere they would halt for the 
purpose of refreshment, Sir Kenneth could not overcome the dis¬ 
gust which he felt against swallowing any nourishment, and 
could be prevailed upon to taste nothing, saving a draught of 
cold water. 

He was awake, long after his Arab host had performed his 
usual devotions and betaken himself to his repose, nor had 
sleep visited him at the hour of midnight, when a movement 
took place among the domestics,* which, though attended with 
no speech, and very little noise, made him aware they were 


220 


THE TALISMAN 


loading the camels and preparing for departure. In the 
course of these preparations, the last person who was dis¬ 
turbed, excepting the physician himself, was the Knight of 
Scotland, whom, about three in the morning, a sort of major- 
domo, or master of the household, acquainted that he must 
arise. He did so, without farther answer, and followed him 
into the moonlight, where stood the camels, most of which 
were already loaded, and one only remained kneeling until its 
burden should be completed. 

A little apart from the camels stood a number of horses 
ready bridled and saddled, and the Hakim himself, coming 
forth, mounted on one of them with as much agility as the 
grave decorum of his character permitted, and directed i 
another, which he pointed out, to be led towards Sir Kenneth. 
An English officer was in attendance to escort them through 
the camp of the Crusaders, and to insure their leaving it in 
safety, and all was ready for their departure. The pavilion : 
which they had left was, in the meanwhile, struck with singu- 
lar despatch, and the tent-poles and coverings composed the ! 
burden of the last camel; when the physician pronouncing j 
solemnly the verse of the Koran, “ God be our guide, and j 
Mohammed our protector, in the desert as in the watered field,” j 
the whole cavalcade was instantly in motion. 

In traversing the camp, they were challenged by the various j 
sentinels who maintained guard there, and suffered to proceed \ 
in silence, or with a muttered curse upon their prophet, as they | 
passed the post of some more zealous Crusader. At length, 
the last barriers were left behind them, and the party formed 
themselves for the march with military precaution. Tw t o or 
three horsemen advanced in front as a vanguard; one or two 
remained a bow-shot in the rear; and, wherever the ground; 
admitted, others were detached to keep an outlook on the j 
flanks. In this manner they proceeded onward, while Sir | 
Kenneth, looking back on the moonlight camp, might now in- i 



THE TALISMAN 


221 


deed seem banished, deprived at once of honor and of liberty, 
from the glimmering banners under which he had hoped to gain 
•additional renown, and the tented dwellings of chivalry, of 
Christianity, and — of Edith Plantagenet. 

The Hajrim, who rode by his side, observed, in his usual 
tone of sententious consolation : “ It is unwise to look back 
when the journey lieth forward ”; and as he spoke, the horse 
of the knight made such a perilous stumble as threatened to 
add a practical moral to the tale. 

The knight was compelled by this hint to give more attention 
to the management of his steed, which more than once required 
the assistance and support of the check-bridle, although, in 
other respects, nothing could be more easy at once and active 
than the ambling pace at which the animal, which was a mare, 
proceeded. 

“The conditions of that horse,” observed the sententious 
physician, “ are like those of human fortune; seeing that 
amidst his most swift and easy pace the rider must guard 
himself against a fall, and that it is when prosperity is at the 
highest that our prudence should be awake and vigilant, to 
prevent misfortune.” 

The overloaded appetite loathes even the honeycomb, and 
it is scarce a wonder that the knight, mortified and harassed 
with misfortunes and abasement, became something impatient 
of hearing his misery made, at every turn, the ground of prov¬ 
erbs and apothegms, however just and apposite. 

“Methinks,” he said, rather peevishly, “I wanted no addi¬ 
tional illustration of the instability of fortune; though I would 
thank thee, Sir Hakim, for thy choice of a steed for me, would 
the jade but stumble so effectually as at once to break my neck 
and her own.” , 

“My brother,” answered the Arab sage, with imperturbable 
gravity, “thou speakest as one of the foolish. Thou say’st 
in thy heart, that the sage should have given thee as his guest 


222 


THE TALISMAN 


the younger and better horse, and reserved the old one for 
himself; but know, that the defects of the older steed may be 
compensated by the energies of the young rider, whereas the 
violence of the young horse requires to be moderated by the: 
cold temper of the older.” 

So spoke the sage; but neither to this observation did Sir : 
Kenneth return any answer which could lead to a continuance 
of their conversation, and the physician, wearied, perhaps, of 
administering comfort to one who would not be comforted, ' 
signed to one of his retinue. 

“ Hassan,” he said, “ hast thou nothing wherewith to beguile 
the way ? ” 

Hassan, story-teller and poet by profession, spurred up, 
upon this summons, to exercise his calling. “Lord of the 
palace of life,” he said, addressing the physician, “thou, be-' 
fore whom the angel Azrael spreadeth his wings for flight — 
thou, wiser than Solimaun ben Daoud, 1 upon whose signet! 
was inscribed the keal name which controls the spirits of the j 
elements — forbid it, Heaven, that, while thou travellest upon j 
the track of benevolence, bearing healing and hope wherever j 
thou comest, thine own course should be saddened for lack of i 
the tale and of the song. Behold, while thy servant is at thy 
side, he will pour forth the treasures of his memory, as the 
fountain sendeth her stream beside the pathway, for the re¬ 
freshment of him that walketh thereon.” 

After this exordium, Hassan uplifted his voice, and began 
a tale of love and magic, intermixed with feats of warlike 
achievement, and ornamented with abundant quotations from 
the Persian poets, with whose compositions the orator seemed i 
familiar. The retinue of the physician, such excepted as were 
necessarily detained in attendance on the camels, thronged up 
to the narrator, and pressed as close as deference for their 
master permitted, to enjoy the delight which the inhabitants 
1 Solomon. & 




THE TALISMAN 


223 


of the East have ever derived from this species of exhi¬ 
bition. 

At another time, notwithstanding his imperfect knowledge 
of the language, Sir Kenneth might have been interested in 
the recitation, which, though dictated by a more extravagant 
imagination, and expressed in more inflated and metaphorical 
language, bore yet a strong resemblance to the romances of 
chivalry, then so fashionable in Europe. But as matters stood 
with him, he was scarcely even sensible that a man in the 
centre of the cavalcade recited and sung, in a low tone, for 
nearly two hours, modulating his voice to the various moods 
of passion introduced into the tale, and receiving, in return, 
now low murmurs of applause, now muttered expressions of 
wonder, now sighs and tears, and sometimes, what it was far 
more difficult to extract from such an audience, a tribute of 
smiles, and even laughter. 

During the recitation, the attention of the exile, however 
abstracted by *his own deep sorrow, was occasionally awakened 
by the low wail of a dog, secured in a wicker inclosure sus¬ 
pended on one of the camels, which, as an experienced woods¬ 
man, he had no hesitation in recognizing to be that of his own 
faithful hound; and from the plaintive tone of the animal, he 
had no doubt that he was sensible of his master’s vicinity, and, 
in his way, invoking his assistance for liberty and rescue. 

“Alas! poor Roswal,” he said, “thou callest for aid and 
sympathy upon one in stricter bondage than thou thyself art. 
I will not seem to heed thee, or return thy affection, since it 
would serve but to load our parting with yet more bitterness.” 

Thus passed the hours of night, and the space of dim hazy 
dawn which forms the twilight of a Syrian morning. But 
when the very first line of the sun’s disk began to rise above 
the level horizon, and when the very first level ray shot glim¬ 
mering in dew along the surface of the desert, which the 
travellers had now attained, the sonorous voice of El Hakim 


224 


THE TALISMAN 


himself overpowered and cut short the narrative of the tale¬ 
teller, while he caused to resound along the sands the solemn 
summons which the muezzins thunder at morning from the 
minaret of every mosque. 

“ To prayer — to prayer ! God is the one God. To prayer 

— to prayer ! Mohammed is the prophet of God. To prayer 

— to prayer! Time is flying from you. To prayer — to 
prayer ! Judgment is drawing nigh to you.” 

In an instant each Moslem cast himself from his horse, 
turned his face towards Mecca, and performed with sand an 
imitation of those ablutions which were elsewhere required to 
j^e made with water, while each individual, in brief but fer¬ 
vent ejaculations, recommended himself to the care, and his 
sins to the forgiveness, of God and the Prophet. 

Even Sir Kenneth, whose reason at once and prejudices 
were offended by seeing his companions in that which he con¬ 
sidered as an act of idolatry, could not help respecting the 
sincerity of their misguided zeal, and being stimulated by 
their fervor to apply supplications to Heaven in a purer 
form, wondering, meanwhile, what new-born feelings could 
teach him to accompany in prayer, though with varied invoca¬ 
tion, those very Saracens, whose heathenish worship he had 
conceived a crime dishonorable to the land in which high 
miracles had been wrought, and where the day-star of redemp¬ 
tion had arisen. 

The act of devotion, however, though rendered in such 
strange society, burst purely from his natural feelings of re¬ 
ligious duty, and had its usual effect in composing the spirits, 
which had been long harassed by so rapid a succession of calami¬ 
ties. The sincere and earnest approach of the Christian to the 
throne of the Almighty teaches the best lesson of patience under 
affliction; since wherefore should we mock the Deity with sup¬ 
plications, when we insult Him by murmuring under His de¬ 
crees 1 or how, while our prayers have in every word admitted 


THE TALISMAN 


225 


i the vanity and nothingness of the things of time in comparison 
to those of eternity, should we hope to deceive the Searcher of 
Hearts, by permitting the world and worldly passions to re¬ 
assume the reins even immediately after a solemn address to 
Heaven? But Sir Kenneth was not of these. He felt him¬ 
self comforted and strengthened, and better prepared to exe¬ 
cute or submit to whatever his destiny might call upon him to 
do or to suffer. 

Meanwhile, the party of Saracens regained their saddles and 
continued their route, and the tale-teller, Hassan, resumed 
the thread of his narrative; but it was no longer to the same 
attentive audience. A horseman, who had ascended some high 
ground on the right hand of the little column, had returned on 
a speedy gallop to El Hakim, and communicated with him. 
Four or five more cavaliers had then been despatched, and 
the little band, which might consist of about twenty or thirty 
persons, began to follow them with their eyes, as men from 
whose gestures, and advance or retreat, they were to augur 
I good or evil. Hassan, finding his audience inattentive, or 
■ being himself attracted by the dubious appearances on the 
flank, stinted in his song; and the march became silent, save 
when a camel-driver called out to his patient charge, or some 
anxious follower of the Hakim communicated with his next 
neighbor in a hurried and low whisper. 

This suspense continued until they had rounded a ridge, com¬ 
posed of hillocks of sand, which concealed from their main 
body the object that had created this alarm among their scouts. 
Sir Kenneth could now see, at the distance of a mile or more, 
a dark object moving rapidly on the bosom of the desert, which 
his experienced eye recognized for a party of cavalry, much 
superior to their own in numbers, and, from the thick and fre¬ 
quent flashes which flung back the level beams of the rising 
sun, it was plain that these were Europeans in their complete 
panoply. 


Q 





226 


THE TALISMAN 


The anxious looks which the horsemen of El Hakim now 
cast upon their leader seemed to indicate deep apprehension; 
while he, with gravity as undisturbed as when he called his fol¬ 
lowers to prayer, detached. two of his best-mounted cavaliers, 
with instructions to approach as closely as prudence permitted 
to these travellers of the desert, and observe more minutely 
their numbers, their character, and, if possible, their purpose. 
The approach of danger, or what was feared as such, was like a 
stimulating draught to one in apathy, and recalled Sir Kenneth 
to himself and his situation. 

“ What fear you from these Christian horsemen, for such they 
seem ? ” he said to the Hakim. 

“ Fear! ” said El Hakim, repeating the word disdainfully. 
“ The sage fears nothing but Heaven, but ever expects from 
wicked men the worst which they can do.” 

“ They are Christians,” said Sir Kenneth, “and it is the time 
of truce; why should you fear a breach of faith ? ” 

“ They are the priestly soldiers of the Temple,” answered 
El Hakim, “ whose vow limits them to know neither truth nor 
faith with the worshippers of Islam. May the Prophet blight 
them, both root, branch, and twig! Their peace is war, and 
their faith is falsehood. Other invaders of Palestine have their 
times and moods of courtesy. The Lion Richard will spare 
when he has conquered; the eagle Philip will close his wing 
when he has stricken a prey; even the Austrian bear will 
sleep when he is gorged; but this horde of ever hungry wolves 
know neither pause nor satiety in their rapine. Seest thou not 
that they are detaching a party from their main body, and that 
they take an eastern direction 1 Yon are their pages and squires, 
whom they train up in their accursed mysteries, and whom, as 
lighter mounted, they send to cut us off from our watering- 
place. But they will be disappointed : I know the war of the 
desert yet better than they.” 

He spoke a few words to his principal officer, and his whole 


THE TALISMAN 


227 


demeanor and countenance was at once changed from the solemn 
repose of an Eastern sage, accustomed more to contemplation 
than to action, into the prompt and proud expression of a gal¬ 
lant soldier, whose energies are roused by the near approach of 
a danger which he at once foresees and despises. 

To Sir Kenneth’s eyes the approaching crisis had a different 
aspect, and when Adonbec said to him, “ Thou must tarry close 
by my side,” he answered solemnly in the negative. 

“ Yonder,” he said, “are my comrades in arms — the men in 
whose society I have vowed to fight or fall. On their banner 
gleams the sign of our most blessed redemption; I cannot fly 
from the Cross in company with the Crescent.” 

“ Fool! ” said the Hakim; “ their first action would be to do 
thee to death, were it only to conceal their breach of the 
truce.” 

“.Of that I must take my chance,” replied Sir Kenneth; 
“but I wear not the bonds of the infidels an instant longer 
than I can cast them from me.” 

“ Then will I compel thee to follow me,” said El Hakim. 

“Compel!” answered Sir Kenneth, angrily. “Wert thou 
not my benefactor, or one who has showed will to be such, and 
were it not that it is to thy confidence I owe the freedom of 
these hands, which thou mightst have loaded with fetters, I 
would show thee that, unarmed as I am, compulsion would be 
no easy task.” 

“Enough — enough,” replied the Arabian physician, “we 
lose time even when it is becoming precious.” 

So saying, he threw his arm aloft, and uttered a loud and 
shrill cry, as a signal to those of his retinue, who instantly 
dispersed themselves on the face of the desert, in as many 
different directions as a chaplet of beads when the string is 
broken. Sir Kenneth had no time to note what ensued; for, 
at the same instant, the Hakim seized the rein of his steed, and 
putting his own to its mettle, both sprung forth at once with 


228 


THE TALISMAN 


the suddenness of light, and at a pitch of velocity which 
almost deprived the Scottish knight of the power of respiration, i 
and left him absolutely incapable, had he been desirous, to have 
checked the career of his guide. Practised as Sir Kenneth was 
in horsemanship from his earliest youth, the speediest horse he ! 
had ever mounted was a tortoise in comparison to those of the I 
Arabian sage. They spurned the sand from behind them — 
they seemed to devour the desert before them — miles flew away 
with minutes, and yet their strength seemed unabated, and 
their respiration as free as when they first started upon the 
wonderful race. The motion, too, as easy as it was swift, seemed 
more like flying through the air than riding on the earth, and 
was attended with no unpleasant sensation, save the awe natu¬ 
rally felt by one who is moving at such astonishing speed, and 
the difficulty of breathing occasioned by their passing through 
the air so rapidly. 

It was not until after an hour of this portentous motion, 
and when all human pursuit was far, far behind, that the 
Hakim at length relaxed his speed, and, slackening the pace of j 
the horses into a hand-gallop, began, in a voice as composed ] 
and even as if he had been walking for the last hour, a ; 
descant upon the excellence of his coursers to the Scot, who, I 
breathless, half blind, half deaf, and altogether giddy, from the I 
rapidity of this singular ride, hardly comprehended the words ! 
which flowed so freely from his companion. 

“ These horses,” he said, “ are of the breed called the 
Winged, equal in speed to aught excepting the Borak of the 
Prophet. They are fed on the golden barley of Yemen, mixed 
with spices, and with a small portion of dried sheep’s flesh. 
Kings have given provinces to possess them, and their age is 
active as their youth. Thou, Nazarene, art the first, save a 
true believer, that ever had beneath his loins one of this noble 
race, a gift of the Prophet himself to the blessed Ali, his kins¬ 
man and lieutenant, well called the Lion of God. Time lays 



THE TALISMAN 


229 


his touch so lightly on these generous steeds, that the mare on 
which thou now sittest has seen five times five years pass over 
. her, yet retains her pristine speed and vigor, only that in the 
career the support of a bridle, managed by a hand more ex¬ 
perienced than thine, hath now become necessary. May the 
Prophet be blessed, who hath bestowed on the true believers 
the means of advance and retreat, which causeth their iron- 
clothed enemies to be worn out with their own ponderous 
weight! How the horses of yonder dog Templars must have 
snorted and blown, when they had toiled fetlock-deep in the 
desert for one-twentieth part of the space which these brave 
steeds have left behind them, without one thick pant, or a 
drop of moisture upon their sleek and velvet coats ! ” 

The Scottish knight, who had now begun to recover his 
breath and powers of attention, could not help acknowledging 
in his heart the advantage possessed by these Eastern warriors 
in a race of animals alike proper for advance or retreat, and 
so admirably adapted to the level and sandy deserts of Arabia 
and Syria. But he did not choose to augment the pride of 
the Moslem by acquiescing in his proud claim of superiority, 
and therefore suffered the conversation to drop, and, looking 
around him, could now, at the more moderate pace at which 
they moved, distinguish that he was in a country not unknown 
to him. 

The blighted borders and sullen waters of the Dead Sea, the 
ragged and precipitous chain of mountains arising on the left, 
the two or three palms, clustered together, forming the single 
green speck on the bosom of the waste wilderness — objects 
which, once seen, were scarcely to be forgotten — showed to 
Sir Kenneth that they were approaching the fountain called 
the Diamond of the Desert, which had been the scene of his 
interview on a former occasion with the Saracen Emir Sheer - 
kohf, or Ilderim. In a few minutes they checked their horses 
beside the spring, and the Hakim invited Sir Kenneth to de- 


230 


THE TALISMAN 


scend from horseback, and repose himself as in a place oi 
safety. They unbridled their steeds, El Hakim observing thal 
farther care of them was unnecessary, since they would bf 
speedily joined by some of the best-mounted among his slaves, 
who would do what farther was needful. 

“Meantime,” he said, spreading some food on the grass, 
“ eat and drink, and be not discouraged. Fortune may raise 
up or abase the ordinary mortal, but the sage and the soldiei 
should have minds beyond her control.” 

The Scottish knight endeavored to testify his thanks by 
showing himself docile ; but though he strove to eat out of 
complaisance, the singular contrast between his present situa¬ 
tion and that which he had occupied on the same spot, when 
the envoy of princes and the victor in combat, came like a! 
cloud over his mind, and fasting, lassitude, and fatigue op-1 
pressed his bodily powers. El Hakim examined his hurried' 
pulse, his red and inflamed eye, his heated hand, and his! 
shortened respiration. 

“The mind,” he said, “grows wise by watching, but her) 
sister the body, of coarser materials, needs the support of repose. 
Thou must sleep; and that thou mayst do so to refreshment, 
thou must take a draught mingled with this elixir.” 

He drew from his bosom a small crystal vial, cased in silver 
filigree-work, and dropped into a little golden drinking-cup a 
small portion of a dark-colored fluid. 

“This,” he said, “is one of those productions which Allah 
hath sent on earth for a blessing, though man’s weakness and 
wickedness have sometimes converted it into a curse. It is 
powerful as the wine-cup of the Nazarene to drop the cur¬ 
tain on the sleepless eye, and to relieve the burden of the over¬ 
loaded bosom ; but when applied to the purposes of indulgence 
and debauchery, it rends the nerves, destroys the strength, 
weakens the intellect, and undermines life. But fear not thou 
to use its virtues in the time of need, for the wise man warms 




THE TALISMAN 


231 

him by the same firebrand with which the madman burneth 
the tent.” 1 

“ 1 ha ve seen too much of thy skill, sage Hakim,” said Sir 
Kenneth, “ to debate thine hest ”; and swallowed the narcotic, 
mingled as it was -with some water from the spring, then 
wrapped him in the haik, or Arab cloak, which had been fast¬ 
ened to his saddle-pommel, and, according to the directions 
of the physician, stretched himself at ease in the shade to 
await the promised repose. Sleep came not at first, but in 
her stead a train of pleasing, yet not rousing or awakening, 
sensations. A state ensued in which, still conscious of his 
own identity and his own condition, the knight felt enabled to 
! consider them not only without alarm and sorrow, but as com¬ 
posedly as he might have viewed the story of his misfortunes 
I acted upon a stage, or rather as a disembodied spirit might 
regard the transactions of its past existence. From this state 
of repose, amounting almost to apathy respecting the past, his 
thoughts were carried forward to the future, which, in spite of 
all that existed to overcloud the prospect, glittered with such 
hues as, under much happier auspices, his unstimulated imagi¬ 
nation had not been able to produce, even in its most exalted 
state. Liberty, fame, successful love, appeared to be the cer¬ 
tain, and not very distant, prospect of the enslaved exile, the 
dishonored knight, even of the despairing lover, who had 
placed his hopes of happiness so far beyond the prospect of 
chance, in her wildest possibilities, serving to countenance his 
wishes. Gradually, as the intellectual sight became over¬ 
clouded, these gay visions became obscure like the dying hues 
of sunset, until they were at last lost in total oblivion; and 
Sir Kenneth lay extended at the feet of El Hakim, to all ap¬ 
pearance, but for his deep respiration, as inanimate a corpse as 
if life had actually departed. 

1 Some preparation of opium seems to be intimated. 





232 


THE TALISMAN 


CHAPTER XXIII 

’Mid these wild scenes enchantment waves her hand, 

To change the face of the mysterious l$,nd ; 

Till the bewildering scenes around us seem 
The vain productions of a feverish dream. 

Astolpho, a Romance. 

When the Knight of the Leopard awoke from his long and 
profound repose, he found himself in circumstances so different 
from those in which he had lain down to sleep, that he doubted 
whether he was not still dreaming, or whether the scene had 
not been changed by magic. Instead of the damp grass, he 
lay on a Couch of more than Oriental luxury, and some kind 
hands had, during his repose, stripped him of the cassock of 
chamois which he wore under his armor, and substituted a 
night-dress of the finest linen, and a loose gown of silk. He 
had been canopied only by the palm-trees of the desert, but 
now he lay beneath a silken pavilion, which blazed with the 
richest colors of the Chinese loom, while a slight curtain of 
gauze, displayed around his couch, was calculated to protect 
his repose from the insects, to which he had, ever since his 
arrival in these climates, been a constant and passive prey. 
He looked around, as if to convince himself that he was actu¬ 
ally awake, and all that fell beneath his eye partook of the 
splendor of- his dormitory. A portable bath of cedar, lined 
with silver, was ready for use, and steamed with the odors 
which had been used in preparing it. On a small stand of 
ebony beside the couch stood a silver vase, containing sherbet 
of the most exquisite quality, cold as snow, and which the 
thirst that followed the use <*f the strong narcotic rendered 
peculiarly delicious. Still farther to dispel the dregs of intoxi¬ 
cation which it had left behind, the knight resolved to use 
the bath, and experienced in doing so a delightful refreshment. 


THE TALISMAN 


233 


Having dried himself with napkins of the Indian wool, he 
would willingly have resumed his own coarse garments, that 
he might go forth to see whether the world was as much 
changed without as within the place of his repose. These, 
however, were nowhere to be seen, but in their place he found 
a Saracen dress of rich materials, with sabre and poniard, and 
all befitting an emir of distinction. He was able to suggest 
no motive to himself for this exuberance of care, excepting a 
suspicion that these attentions were intended to shake him in 
his religious profession; as indeed it was well known that 
the high esteem of the European knowledge and courage made 
the Soldan unbounded in his gifts to those who, having become 
his prisoners, had been induced to take the turban. Sir Ken¬ 
neth, therefore, crossing himself devoutly, resolved to set all 
such snares at defiance; and that he might do so the more 
firmly, conscientiously determined to avail himself as moder¬ 
ately as possible of the attentions and luxuries thus liberally 
heaped upon him. Still, however, he felt his head oppressed 
and sleepy, and aware, too, that his undress was not fit for 
appearing abroad, he reclined upon the couch, and was again 
locked in the arms of slumber. 

But this time his rest was not unbroken, for he was awak¬ 
ened by the voice of the physician at the door of the tent, 
inquiring after his health, and whether he had rested suffi¬ 
ciently. “May I enter your tent?” he concluded, “for the 
curtain is drawn before the entrance.” 

“The master,” replied Sir Kenneth, determined to show 
that he was not surprised into forgetfulness of his own condi¬ 
tion, “need demand no permission to enter the tent of the 
slave.” 

“But if I come not as a master?” said El Hakim, still 
without entering. 

“ The physician,” answered the knight, “ hath free access 
to the bedside of his patient.” 


234 


THE TALISMAN 


“Neither come I now as a physician/’ replied El Hakim; 
“ and therefore I still request permission ere I come under the 
covering of thy tent.” 

“Whoever comes as a friend,” said Sir Kenneth, “and such 
thou hast hitherto shown thyself to me, the habitation of the 
friend is ever open to him.” 

“Yet once again,” said the Eastern sage, after the peri- 
phrastical manner of his countrymen, “ supposing that I come 
not as a friend ? ” 

“Come as thou wilt,” said the Scottish knight, somewhat 
impatient of this circumlocution — “be what thou wilt, thou 
knowest well it is neither in my power nor my inclination to 
refuse thee entrance.” 

“ I come, then,” said El Hakim, “ as your ancient foe; but 
a fair and a generous one.” 

He entered as he spoke; and when he stood before the bed¬ 
side of Sir Kenneth, the voice continued to be that of Adonbec, 
the Arabian physician, but the form, dress, and features were 
those of Ilderim of Kurdistan, called Sheerkohf. Sir Kenneth 
gazed upon him, as if he expected the vision to depart, like 
something created by his imagination. 

“Doth it so surprise thee,” said Ilderim, “and thou an 
approved warrior, to see that a soldier knows somewhat of 
the art of healing ? I say to thee, Nazarene, that an accom¬ 
plished cavalier should know how to dress his steed as well 
as how to ride him ; how to forge his sword upon the stithy, as 
well as how to use it in battle; how to burnish his arms, as 
well as how to wear them; and, above all, how to cure wounds 
as well as how to inflict them.” 

As he spoke, the Christian knight repeatedly shut his eyes, 
and while they remained closed, the idea of the Hakim, with 
his long, flowing, dark robes, high Tartar cap, and grave ges¬ 
tures, was present to his imagination ; but so soon as he opened 
them, the graceful and richly-gemmed turban, the light hauberk 


THE TALISMAN 


235 


of steel rings entwisted with silver, which glanced brilliantly as 
it obeyed every inflection of the body, the features freed from 
their formal expression, less swarthy, and no longer shadowed 
by the mass of hair (now limited to a w T ell-trimmed beard), 
announced the soldier and not the sage. 

“ Art thou still so much surprised,” said the Emir, “ and 
hast thou walked in the world with such little observance, as to 
wonder that men are not always what they seem ? Thou thy¬ 
self — art thou what thou seemest ? ” 

“No, by St. Andrew!” exclaimed the knight; “for, to the 
whole Christian camp I seem a traitor, and I know myself to 
be a true, though an erring, man.” * 

“Even so I judged thee,” said Ilderim, “and as we had 
eaten salt together, I deemed myself bound to rescue thee from 
death and contumely. But w r herefore lie you still on your 
couch, since the sun is high' in the heavens ? or are the vest¬ 
ments which my sumpter-camels have afforded unworthy of 
your wearing?” 

“Not unworthy, surely, but unfitting for it,” replied the 
Scot; “give me the dress of a slave, noble Ilderim, and I will 
don it with pleasure; but I cannot brook to wear the habit of 
the free Eastern warrior, with the turban of the Moslem.” 

“ Nazarene,” answered the Emir, “ thy nation so easily en¬ 
tertain suspicion, that it may well render themselves suspected. 
Have I not told thee that Saladin desires no converts saving 
those whom the holy Prophet shall dispose to submit them¬ 
selves to his law? Violence and bribery are alike alien to his 
plan for extending the true faith. Hearken to me, my brother. 
When the blind man was miraculously restored to sight, the 
scales dropped from his eyes at the Divine pleasure; 1 think’st 
thou that any earthly leech could have removed them ? No. 
Such mediciner might have tormented the patient with his in¬ 
struments, or perhaps soothed him with his balsams and cordials, 
1 Acts ix. 18. 


236 


THE TALISMAN 


but dark as he was must the darkened man have remained; 
and it is even so with the blindness of the understanding. If 
there be those among the Franks who, for the sake of worldly 
lucre, have assumed the turban of the Prophet, and followed 
the laws of Islam, with their own consciences be the blame. 
Themselves sought out ttfe bait; it was not flung to them by 
the Soldan. And when they shall hereafter be sentenced, as 
hypocrites, to the lowest gulf of Hell, below Christian and Jew, 
magician and idolater, and condemned to eat the fruit of the 
tree Yacoun, which is the heads of demons, to themselves, not 
to the Soldan, shall their guilt and their punishment be at¬ 
tributed. Wherefore wear,’without doubt or scruple, the ves¬ 
ture prepared for you, since, if you proceed to the camp of 
Saladin, your own native dress will expose you to troublesome 
observation, and perhaps to insult.” 

“ If I g° to the camp of Saladin ? ” said Sir Kenneth, re¬ 
peating the words of the Emir. “ Alas ! am I a free agent, 
and rather must I not go wherever your pleasure carries me ? ” 

‘‘Thine own will may guide thine own motions,” said the 
Emir, “ as freely as the wind which moveth the dust of the 
desert in what direction it chooseth. The noble enemy who 
met, and well-nigh mastered, my sword cannot become my 
slave like him who has crouched beneath it. If wealth and 
power would tempt thee to join our people, I could insure thy 
possessing them ; but the man who refused the favors of the 
Soldan when the axe was at his head will not, I fear, now 
accept them, when I tell him he has his free choice.” 

“ Complete your generosity, noble Emir,” said Sir Kenneth, 
“ by forbearing to show me a mode of requital which conscience 
forbids me to comply with. Permit me rather to express, as 
bound in courtesy, my gratitude for this most chivalrous bounty, 
this undeserved generosity.” * ' * 

“ Say not undeserved,” replied the Emir Ilderim; “ was it 
not through thy conversation, and thy account of the beauties 


THE TALISMAN 


237 


i which grace the court of the Melech Ric, that I ventured me 
| thither in disguise, and thereby procured a sight the most 
blessed that I have ever enjoyed — that I ever shall enjoy, 
i until the glories of Paradise beam on my eyes ? ” 

' “I understand you not,” said Sir Kenneth, coloring alter- 
j nately and turning pale, as one who felt that the conversation 
i was taking a tone of the most painful delicacy. 

“Not understand me ! ” exclaimed the Emir. “ If the sight 
I saw in the tent of King Richard escaped thine observation, I 
will account it duller than the edge of a buffoon’s wooden 
I falchion. True, thou wert under sentence of death at the time ; 
but, in my case, had my head been dropping from the trunk, 

| the last strained glances of my eyeballs had distinguished with 
I delight such a vision of loveliness, and the head would have 
rolled itself towards the incomparable houris, to kiss with its 
j quivering lips the hem of their vestments. Yonder royalty of 
I England, who for her superior loveliness deserves to be queen 
j of the universe, what tenderness in her blue eye, what lustre in 
her tresses of dishevelled gold ! By the tomb of the Prophet, 
I scarce think that the houri who shall present to me the 
diamond cup of immortality will deserve so warm a caress! ” 

“ Saracen,” said Sir Kenneth, sternly, “ thou speakest of the 
wife of Richard of England, of whom men think not and speak 
not as a woman to be won, but as a queen to be revered.” 

“I cry you mercy,” said the Saracen. “I had forgotten 
your superstitious veneration for the sex, which you consider 
rather fit to be wondered at and worshipped than wooed and 
possessed. I warrant, since thou exactest such profound re¬ 
spect to yonder tender piece of frailty, whose every motion, 
step, and look bespeaks her very woman, less than absolute 
adoration must not be yielded to her of the dark tresses and 
! nobly-speaking eye. She , indeed, I will allow, hath in her 
! noble port and majestic mien something at once pure and firm ; 
yet even she, when pressed by opportunity and a forward lover, 




238 


THE TALISMAN 


would, I warrant thee, thank him in her heart rather for treat¬ 
ing her as a mortal than as a goddess.” 

“ Respect the kinswoman of Coeur-de-Lion! ” said Sir Ken¬ 
neth, in a tone of unrepressed anger. 

“ Respect her ! ” answered the Emir, in scorn; “ by the Caaba, 
and if I do, it shall be rather as the bride of Saladin.” 

“ The infidel Soldan is unworthy to salute even a spot that i 
has been pressed by the foot of Edith Plantagenet,” exclaimed 
the Christian, springing from his couch. 

“ Ha ! what said the Giaour 1 ” 1 exclaimed the Emir, laying 
his hand on his poniard hilt, while his forehead glowed like 
glancing copper, and the muscles of his lips and cheeks wrought 
till each curl of his beard seemed to twist and screw itself, as 
if alive with instinctive wrath. But the Scottish knight, who 
had stood the lion-anger of Richard, was unappalled at the tiger¬ 
like mood of the chafed Saracen. 

“What I have said,” continued Sir Kenneth, with folded 
arms and dauntless look, “ I would, were my hands loose, main¬ 
tain on foot or horseback against all mortals; and would hold; 
it not the most memorable deed of my life to support it with 
my good broadsword against a score of these sickles and bod¬ 
kins,” pointing at the curved sabre and small poniard of the 
Emir. 

The Saracen recovered his composure as the Christian spoke, 
so far as to withdraw his hand from his weapon, as if the mo¬ 
tion had been without meaning; but still continued in deep ire. 

“By the sword of the Prophet,” he said, “which is the key 
both of Heaven and Hell, he little values his own life, brother, 
who uses the language thou dost. Believe me, that were thine 
hands loose, as thou term’st it, one single true believer would 
find them so much to do, that thou wouldst soon wish them 
fettered again in manacles of iron.” 

1 Giaour: an infidel, a term applied by the Turk to a disbeliever in 
his doctrines. 



THE TALISMAN 


239 


“Sooner would I wish them hewn off by the shoulder- 
blades,” replied Sir Kenneth. 

“ Well. Thy hands are bound at present,” said the Saracen, 
in a more amicable tone—“bound by thine own gentle sense 
! of courtesy, nor have I any present purpose of setting them at 
; liberty. We have proved each other’s strength and courage ere 
j now, and we may again meet in a fair field; and shame befall 
him who shall be the first to part from his foeman ! But now 
we are friends, and I look for aid from thee, rather than hard 
terms or defiances.” 

“We are friends,” repeated the knight; and there was a 
pause, during which the fiery Saracen paced the tent, like the 
| lion, who, after violent irritation, is said to take that method 
j of cooling the distemperature of his blood, ere he stretches 
himself to repose in his den. The colder European remained 
! unaltered in posture and aspect; yet he, doubtless, was also 
| engaged in subduing the angry feelings which had been so un- 
| expectedly awakened. 

“Let us reason of this calmly,” said the Saracen; “I am a 
physician, as thou know’st, and it is written, that he who would 
have his wound cured must not shrink when the leech probes 
i and tents it. Seest thou, I am about to* lay my finger on the 
sore. Thou lovest this kinswoman of the Melech Ric. Unfold 
the veil that shrouds thy thoughts — or unfold it not if thou 
wilt, for mine eyes see through its coverings.” 

“ I loved her,” answered Sir Kenneth, after a pause, “ as a 
man loves Heaven’s grace, and sued for her favor like a sinner 
for Heaven’s pardon.” 

“And you love her no longer?” said the Saracen. 

“Alas,” answered Sir Kenneth, “I am no longer worthy to 
love her. I pray thee cease this discourse: thy words are 
poniards to me.” 

“Pardon me but a moment,” continued Uderim. “When 
thou, a poor and obscure soldier, didst so boldly and so highly 



240 


THE TALISMAN 


fix thine affection, tell me, hadst thou good hope of its 
issue ? ” 

“ Love exists not without hope,” replied the knight; “ but 
mine was as nearly allied to despair as that of the sailor swim¬ 
ming for his life, who, as he surmounts billow after billow, 
catches by intervals some gleam of the distant beacon, which 
shows him there is land in sight, though his sinking heart and 
wearied limbs assure him that he shall never reach it.” 

“ And now,” said Ilderim, “ these hopes are sunk — that soli¬ 
tary light is quenched forever ? ” 

“Forever,” answered Sir Kenneth, in the tone of an echo 
from the bosom of a ruined sepulchre. 

“Methinks,” said the Saracen, “if all thou lackest were 
some such distant meteoric glimpse of happiness as thou hadst 
formerly, thy beacon-light might be rekindled, thy hope fished 
up from the ocean in which it has sunk, and thou thyself, good 
knight, restored to the exercise and amusement of nourishing 
thy fantastic passion upon a diet as uusubstantial as moonlight; 
for, if thou stood’st to-morrow fair in reputation as ever thou 
wert, she whom thou lovest will not be less the daughter of 
princes and the elected bride of Saladin.” 

“ I would it so stood,” said the Scot, “and if I did not_” 

He stopt short, like a man who is afraid of boasting, under 
circumstances which did not permit his being put to the test. 
The Saracen smiled as he concluded the sentence. 

“ Thou wouldst challenge theSoldan to single combat?” said he. 

“ And if I did,” said Sir Kenneth, haughtily, “ Saladin’s 
would neither be the first nor the best turban that I have 
couched lance at.” 

Ay, but methinks the Soldan might regard it as too un¬ 
equal a mode of perilling the chance of a royal bride, and the 
event of a great war,” said the Emir. 

“He may be met with in the front of battle,” said the knight, 
hls eyes gleaming with the ideas which such a thought inspired. 



THE TALISMAN 


241 


j “He has been ever found there,” said Ilderim; “nor is it 
i his wont to turn his horse’s head from any brave encounter. 
But it was not of the Soldan that I meant to speak. In a 
word, if it will content thee to be placed in such reputation as 
i may be attained by detection of the thief who stole the banner 
j of England, I can put thee in a fair way of achieving this task, 
j That is, if thou wilt be governed; for what says Lokman : ‘ If 
I the child would walk, the nurse must lead him ; if the ignorant 
! would understand, the wise must instruct.’ ” 

“ And thou art wise, Ilderim,” said the Scot — “ wise though 
a Saracen, and generous though an infidel. I have witnessed 
that thou art both. Take, then, the guidance of this matter; 
and so thou ask nothing of me contrary to my loyalty and my 
! Christian faith, I will obey thee punctually. Do what thou 
hast said, and take my life when it is accomplished.” 

“Listen thou to me then,” said the Saracen. “Thy noble 
hound is now recovered, by the blessing of that divine medi¬ 
cine which healeth man and beast, and by his sagacity shall 
those who assailed him be discovered.” 

“Ha!” said the knight, “methinks I comprehend thee: I 
was dull not to think of this ! ” 

“But tell me,” added the Emir, “hast thou any followers 
or retainers in the camp by whom the animal may be known 1 ” 
, “I dismissed,” said Sir Kenneth, “my old attendant, thy 
patient, with a varlet that waited on him, at the time when I 
expected to suffer death, giving him letters for my friends in 
Scotland; there are none other to whom the dog is familiar. 
But then my own person is well known — my very speech will 
betray me, in a camp where I have played no mean part for 
many months.” 

“ Both he and thou shall be disguised, so as to escape even 
close examination. I tell thee,” said the Saracen, “ that not 
thy brother in arms, not thy brother in blood, shall discover 
thee, if thou be guided by my counsels. Thou hast seen me 

K 




242 


THE TALISMAN 


do matters more difficult: he that can call the dying from the 
darkness of the shadow of death can easily cast a mist before 
the eyes of the living. But mark me — there is still the con¬ 
dition annexed to this service, that thou deliver a letter of 
Saladin to the niece of the Melech Ric, whose name is as diffi¬ 
cult to our Eastern tongue and lips as her beauty is delightful 
to our eyes.” 

Sir Kenneth paused before he answered, and the Saracen, 
observing his hesitation, demanded of him, “ If he feared to 
undertake this message 1 ” 

“Not if there were death in the execution,” said Sir Ken¬ 
neth: “I do but pause to consider whether it consists with 
my honor to bear the letter of the Soldan, or with that of the 
Lady Edith to receive it from a heathen prince.” 

“ By the head of Mohammed and by the honor of a soldier, 
by the tomb at Mecca and by the soul of my father,” said the 
Emir, “I swear to thee that the letter*is written in all honor 
and respect. The song of the nightingale will sooner blight 
the rose-bower she loves than will the words of the Soldan 
offend the ears of the lovely kinswoman of England.” 

“Then,” said the knight, “I will bear the Soldan’s letter 
faithfully, as if I were his born vassal; understanding, that 
beyond this simple act of service, which I will render with 
fidelity, from me of all men he can least expect mediation or 
advice in this his strange love-suit.” 

“Saladin is noble,” answered the Emir, “and will not spur 
a generous horse to a leap which he cannot achieve. Come 
with me to my tent,” he added, “and thou shalt be presently 
equipped with a disguise as unsearchable as midnight; so thou 
may’st walk the camp of the Nazarenes as if thou hadst on 
thy finger the signet of G-iaougi.” 1 

1 Giaougi: Gyges, a Lydian king who possessed a ring which, when 
worn, made him invisible. 


THE TALISMAN 


243 


CHAPTER XXIV 

A grain of dust, 

, Soiling our cup, will make our sense reject 

Fastidiously the draught which we did thirst for ; 

A rusted nail, placed near the faithful compass, 

Will sway it from the truth, and wreck the argosy. 

Even this small cause of anger and disgust 
Will break the bonds of amity ’mongst princes, 

And wreck their noblest purposes. 

The Crusade. 

The reader can now have little doubt who the Ethiopian 
slave really was, with what purpose he had sought Richard’s 
j camp, and wherefore and with what hope he now r stood close 
| to the person of that monarch, as, surrounded by his valiant 
[peers of England and Normandy, Coeur-de-Lion stood on the 
summit of St. George’s Mount, with the banner of England 
by his side, borne by the most goodly person in the army, 
being his own natural brother, William with the Long Sword, 
Earl of Salisbury, the offspring of Henry the Second’s amour 
with the celebrated Rosamond of Woodstock. 

From several expressions in the King’s conversation with 
1 Neville on the preceding day, the Nubian was left in anxious 
doubt whether his disguise had not been penetrated, especially 
as that the King seemed to be aware in what manner the 
agency of the dog was expected to discover the thief who stole 
the banner, although the circumstance of 'such an animal’s 
having been wounded on the occasion had been scarce men¬ 
tioned in Richard’s presence. Nevertheless, as the King 
continued to treat him in no other manner than his exterior 
required, the Nubian remained uncertain whether he was or 
was not discovered, and determined not to throw his disguise 
aside voluntarily. 

Meanwhile, the powers of the various Crusading princes, 




244 


THE TALISMAN 


arrayed under their royal and princely leaders, swept in longl 
order around the base of the little mound; and as those of 
each different country passed by, their commanders advanced! 
a step or two up the hill, and made a signal of courtesy to 
Richard and to the standard of England, “ in sign of regard] 
and amity,” as the protocol of the ceremony heedfully ex¬ 
pressed it, “ not of subjection or vassalage.” The spiritual 
dignitaries, who in those days veiled not their bonnets to cre¬ 
ated being, bestowed on the King and his symbol of command 
their blessing instead of rendering obeisance. 

Thus the long files marched on, and, diminished as they 
were by so many causes, appeared still an iron host, to whom 
the conquest of Palestine might seem an easy task. The sol¬ 
diers, inspired by the consciousness of united strength, sat 
erect in their steel saddles', while it seemed that the trumpets 
sounded more cheerfully shrill, and the steeds, refreshed by 
rest and provender, chafed on the bit, and trode the ground 
more proudly. On they passed, troop after troop, banners 
waving, spears glancing, plumes dancing, in long perspective 
—a host composed of different nations, complexions, languages, 
arms, and appearances, but all fired, for the time, with the 
holy yet romantic purpose of rescuing the distressed daughter 
of Zion from her thraldom, and redeeming the sacred earth, 
which more than mortal had trodden, from the yoke of the 
unbelieving pagan. And it must be owned, that if, in other 
circumstances, the species of courtesy rendered to the King of 
England by so many warriors from whom he claimed no natural 
allegiance had in it something that might have been thought 
humiliating, yet the nature and cause of the war were so fitted 
to his pre-eminently chivalrous character and renowned feats in 
arms, that claims which might elsewhere have been urged were 
there forgotten, and the brave did willing homage to the brav¬ 
est, in an expedition where the most undaunted and energetic 
courage was necessary to success. 


THE TALISMAN 


245 


The good King was seated on horseback about half-way up 
the mount, a morion 1 on his head, surmounted by a crown, 
which left his manly features exposed to public view, as with 
cool and considerate eye he perused each rank as it passed 
him, and returned the salutation of the leaders. His tunic 
was of sky-colored velvet, covered with plates of silver, and 
his hose of crimson silk, slashed with cloth of gold. By his 
side stood the seeming Ethiopian slave, holding the noble dog 
in a leash, such as was used in woodcraft. It was a circum¬ 
stance which attracted no notice, for many of the princes of 
the Crusade had introduced black slaves into their household, 
in imitation of the barbarous splendor of the Saracens. Over 
the King’s head streamed the large folds of the banner, and, 
as he looked to it from time to time, he seemed to regard a 
ceremony, indifferent to himself personally, as important, when 
considered as atoning an indignity offered to the kingdom 
which he ruled. In the background, and on the very summit 
of the mount, a wooden turret, erected for the occasion, held 
the Queen Berengaria and the principal ladies of the court. 
To this the King looked from time to time, and then ever and 
anon his eyes were turned on the Nubian and the dog, but only 
when such leaders approached as, from circumstances of previous 
ill-will, he suspected of being accessory to the theft of the 
standard, or whom he judged capable of a crime so mean. 

Thus, he did not look in that direction when Philip Augus¬ 
tus of France approached at the head of his splendid troops of 
Gallic chivalry; nay, he anticipated the motions of the French 
king, by descending the mount as the latter came up the as¬ 
cent, so that they met in the middle space, and blended their 
greetings so gracefully that it appeared they met in fraternal 
equality. The sight of the two greatest princes in Europe, in 
rank at once and power, thus publicly avowing their concord, 
called forth bursts of thundering acclaim from the Crusading 
1 Morion: an open helmet. 


246 


THE TALISMAN 


host at many miles’ distance, and made the roving Arab scouts j 
of the desert alarm the camp of Saladin with intelligence that 
the army of the Christians was in motion. Yet who but the 
King of Kings can read the hearts of monarchs? Under this ; 
smooth show of courtesy, Richard nourished displeasure and i 
suspicion against Philip, and Philip meditated withdrawing 
himself and his host from the army of the Cross, and leaving j 
Richard to accomplish or fail in the enterprise with his own 
unassisted forces. 

Richard’s demeanor was different when the dark-armed! 
knights and squires of the Temple chivalry approached — men 
with countenances bronzed to Asiatic blackness by the suns of 
Palestine, and the admirable state of whose horses and ap¬ 
pointments far surpassed even that of the choicest troops of 
France and England. The King cast a hasty glance aside, 
but the Nubian stood quiet, and his trusty dog sat at his feet, j 
watching, with a sagacious yet pleased look, the ranks which j 
now passed before them. The King’s look turned again on 
the chivalrous Templars, as the Grand Master, availing him¬ 
self of his mingled character, bestowed his benediction on : 
Richard as a priest, instead of doing him reverence as a mili¬ 
tary leader. 

“ The misproud and amphibious caitiff puts the monk upon 
me,” said Richard to the Earl of Salisbury. “But, Long- 
sword, we will let it pass. A punctilio must not lose Chris- ' 
tendom the services of these experienced lances, because their | 
victories have rendered them overweening. Lo you, here 
comes our valiant adversary, the Duke of Austria; mark his 
manner and bearing, Longs word; and thou, Nubian, let the 
hound have full view of him. By Heaven, he brings his buf¬ 
foons along with him ! ” 

In fact, whether from habit, or, which is more likely, to 
intimate contempt of the ceremonial he was about to comply 1 
with, Leopold was attended by his spruchsprecher and his J 



THE TALISMAN 


247 


jester, and, as he advanced towards Richard, he whistled in 
what he wished to be considered as an indifferent manner, 
though his heavy features evinced the sullenness, mixed with 
the fear, with which a truant schoolboy may be seen to ap¬ 
proach his master. As the reluctant dignitary made, with 
discomposed and sulky look, the obeisance required, the 
spruchsprecher shook his baton, and proclaimed, like a herald, 
that, in what he was now doing, the Archduke of Austria was 
not to be held derogating from the rank and privileges of a 
sovereign prince, to which the jester answered with a sonor¬ 
ous “amen,” which provoked much laughter among the by¬ 
standers. 

King Richard looked more than once at the Nubian and his 
dog ; but the former moved not, nor did the latter strain at the 
leash, so that Richard said to the slave with some scorn : 
“ Thy success in this enterprise, my sable friend, even though 
thou hast brought thy hound’s sagacity to back thine own, 

| will not, I fear, place thee high in the rank of wizards, or 
much augment thy merits towards our person.” 

The Nubian answered, as usual, only by a lowly obeisance. 

Meantime the troops of the Marquis of Montserrat next 
passed in order before the King of England. That powerful 
and wily baron, to make the greater display of his forces, had 
(divided them into two bodies. At the head of the first, con¬ 
sisting of his vassals and followers, and levied from his Syrian 
possessions, came his brother Enguerrand, and he himself fol¬ 
lowed, leading on a gallant band of twelve hundred Stradiots, 
a kind of light cavalry raised by the Venetians in their Dal¬ 
matian possessions, and of which they had entrusted the com¬ 
mand to the Marquis, with whom the republic had many 
bonds of connection. These Stradiots were clothed in a fash- 
lion partly European, but partaking chiefly of the Eastern 
fashion. They wore, indeed, short hauberks, but had over 
jthem party-colored tunics of rich stuffs, with large wide 





248 


THE TALISMAN 


pantaloons and half-boots. On their heads were straight up¬ 
right caps, similar to those of the Greeks, and they carried 
small round targets, bows and arrows, scimitars, and poniards. 
They were mounted on horses carefully selected, and well 
maintained at the expense of the state of Venice; their sad¬ 
dles and appointments resembled those of the Turks, and they 
rode in the same manner, with short stirrups and upon a high 
seat. These troops were of great use in skirmishing with the 
Arabs, though unable to engage in close combat like the iron- 
sheathed men-at-arms of Western and Northern Europe. 

Before this goodly band came Conrade, in the same garb 
with the Stradiots, but of such rich stuff that he seemed to 
blaze with gold and silver, and the milk-white plume fastened 
in his cap by a clasp of diamonds seemed tall enough to sweep 
the clouds. The noble steed which he reined bounded and 
caracoled , 1 and displayed his spirit and agility in a manner j 
which might have troubled a less admirable horseman than 
the Marquis, who gracefully ruled him with the one hand, 
while the other displayed the baton, whose predominancy over 
the ranks which he led seemed equally absolute. Yet his | 
authority over the Stradiots was more in show than in sub-| 
stance; for there paced beside him, on an ambling palfrey of 
soberest mood, a little old man, dressed entirely in black,; 
without beard or mustachios, and having an appearance alto- 
gether mean and insignificant, when compared with the blaze j 
of splendor around him. But this mean-looking old man; 
was one of those deputies whom the Venetian government sent! 
into camps to overlook the conduct of the generals to whom the j 
leading was consigned, and to maintain that jealous system of 
espial and control which had long distinguished the policy of! 
the republic. 

Conrade, who, by cultivating Richard’s humor, had at-] 
tained a certain degree of favor with him, no sooner was; 

1 Caracoled: made a half-turn to right and left as he proceeded. 



THE TALISMAN 


249 


come within his ken than the King of England descended a 
step or two to meet him, exclaiming, at the same time : “Ha, 
Lord Marquis, thou at the head of the fleet Stradiots, and thy 
black shadow attending thee as usual, whether the sun shines 
or not! May not one ask thee whether the rule of the troops 
remains with the shadow or the substance 1 ” 

Conrade was commencing his reply with a smile, when Ros- 
wal, the noble hound, uttering a furious and savage yell, 
sprung forward. The Nubian, at the same time, slipped the 
leash, and the hound, rushing on, leapt upon Conrade’s noble 
charger, and seizing the Marquis by the throat, pulled him 
down from the saddle. The plumed rider lay rolling on the 
sand, and the frightened horse fled in wild career through the 
camp. 

- “ Thy hound hath pulled down the right quarry, I warrant 
him,” said the King to the Nubian, “and I vow to St. George 
he is a stag of ten tynes. 1 Pluck the dog off, lest he throttle 
him.” 

The Ethiopian accordingly, though not without difficulty, 
disengaged the dog from Conrade, and fastened him up, still 
highly excited and struggling in the leash. Meanwhile, many 
crowded to the spot, especially followers of Conrade and officers 
of the Stradiots, who, as they saw their leader lie gazing wildly 
on the sky, raised him up amid a tumultuary cry of “ Cut the 
slave and his hound to pieces ! ” 

But the voice of Richard, loud and sonorous, was heard 
clear above all other exclamations. “ He dies the death who 
injures the hound. He hath but done his duty, after the 
sagacity with which Cod and nature have endowed the brave 
animal. Stand forward for a false traitor, thou, Conrade Mar¬ 
quis of Montserrat. I impeach thee of treason.” 

Several of the Syrian leaders had now come up, and Con¬ 
rade, vexation, and shame, and confusion struggling with pas- 
1 Tynes: prongs. 


250 


THE TALISMAN 


sion in his manner and voice, exclaimed : “ What means this? 
With what am I charged? Why this base usage and these 
reproachful terms ? Is this the league of concord which Eng¬ 
land renewed but so lately ? ” 

“Are the princes of the Crusade turned hares or deers in 
the eyes of King Richard, that he should slip hounds on 
them ? ” said the sepulchral voice of the Grand Master of the 
Templars. 

“It must be some singular accident — some fatal mistake,” 
said Philip of France, who rode up at the same moment. 

“ Some deceit of the Enemy,” said the Archbishop of Tyre. 

“ A stratagem of the Saracens,” cried Henry of Champagne. 
“It were well to hang up the dog, and put the slave to the 
torture.” 

“Let no man lay hand upon them,” said Richard, “as he 
loves his own life. Conrade, stand forth, if thou darest, and 
deny the accusation which this mute animal hath in his noble 
instinct brought against thee, of injury done to him and foul 
scorn to England 1 ” 

“ I never touched the banner,” said Conrade, hastily. 

“ Thy words betray thee, Conrade ! ” said Richard ; “ for 
how didst thou know, save from conscious guilt, that the 
question is concerning the banner ? ” 

“ Hast thou then not kept the camp in turmoil on that and 
no other score ? ” answered Conrade; “ and dost thou impute 
to a prince and an ally a crime which, after all, was probably 
committed by some paltry felon for the sake of the gold thread ? 
Or wouldst thou now impeach a confederate on the credit of 
a dog ? ” 

By this time the alarm was becoming general, so that Philip 
of France interposed. 

“Prince and nobles,” he said, “you speak in presence of 
those whose swords will soon be at the throats of each other, 
if they hear their leaders at such terms together. In the name 


THE TALISMAN 


251 


of Heaven, let us draw off, each his own troops, into their 
separate quarters, and ourselves meet an hour hence in the 
pavilion of council, to take some order in this new state of 
confusion.” 

“ Content,” said King Richard, “ though I should have liked 
to have interrogated that caitiff while his gay doublet was yet 
besmirched with sand. But the pleasure of France shall be 
ours in this matter.” 

The leaders separated as was proposed, each prince placing 
himself at the head of his own forces; and then was heard on 
all sides the crying of war-cries, and the sounding of gather¬ 
ing-notes upon bugles and trumpets, by which the different 
stragglers were summoned to their prince’s banner; and the 
troops were shortly seen in motion, each taking different 
routes through the camp to their own quarters. But although 
any immediate act of violence was thus prevented, yet' the 
accident which had taken place dwelt on every mind; and 
those foreigners, who had that morning hailed Richard as the 
worthiest to lead their army, now resumed their prejudices 
against his pride and intolerance, while the English, conceiv¬ 
ing the honor of their country connected with the quarrel, 
of which various reports had gone about, considered the natives 
of other countries jealous of the fame of England and her 
king, and disposed to undermine it by the meanest arts of 
intrigue. Many and various were the rumors spread upon the 
occasion, and there was one which averred that the Queen and 
her ladies had been much alarmed by the tumult, and that one 
of them had swooned. 

The council assembled at the appointed hour. Conrade had 
in the meanwhile laid aside his dishonored dress, and with it 
the shame and confusion which, in spite of his talents and 
promptitude, had at first overwhelmed him, owing to the 
strangeness of the accident and suddenness of the accusation. 
He was now robed like a prince, and entered the council- 


252 


THE TALISMAN 


■ 

chamber attended by the Archduke of Austria, the Grandj 
Masters both of the Temple and of the Order of St. John, and 
several other potentates, who made a show of supporting him 
and defending his cause, chiefly perhaps from political motives,j 
or because they themselves nourished a personal enmity against 
Richard. 

This appearance of union in favor of Conrade was far from 
influencing the King of England. He entered the council with 
his usual indifference of manner, and in the same dress in which 
he had just alighted from horseback. He cast a careless and 
somewhat scornful glance on the leaders, who had with studied 
affectation arranged themselves around Conrade, as if owning 
his cause, and in the most direct terms charged Conrade of \ 
Montserrat with having stolen the banner of England, and! 
wounded the faithful animal who stood in its defence. 

Conrade arose boldly to answer, and in despite, as he ex¬ 
pressed himself, of man and brute, king or dog, avouched his I 
innocence of the crime charged. 

“ Brother of England,” said Philip, who willingly assumed! 
the character of moderator of the assembly, “ this is an unusual 
impeachment. We do not hear you avouch your own knowl¬ 
edge of this matter, farther than your belief resting upon the 
demeanor of this hound towards the Marquis of Montserrat. 
Surely the word of a knight and a prince should bear him out 
against the barking of a cur ? ” 

“Royal brother,” returned Richard, “recollect that the 
Almighty, who gave the dog to be companion of our pleasures 
and our toils, hath invested him with a nature noble and in¬ 
capable of deceit. He forgets neither friend nor foe, remem¬ 
bers, and with accuracy, both benefit and injury. He hath a 
share of man’s intelligence, but no share of man’s falsehood. 
You may bribe a soldier to slay a man with his sword, or a 
witness to take life by false accusation; but you cannot make 
a hound tear his benefactor: he is the friend of man, save 






THE TALISMAN 


253 


when man justly incurs his enmity. Dress yonder Marquis 
in what peacock-robes you will, disguise his appearance, alter 
his complexion with drugs and washes, hide him amidst an 
hundred men; I will yet pawn my sceptre that the hound 
detects him, and expresses his resentment, as you have this 
day beheld. This is no new incident, although a strange one. 

! Murderers and robbers have been, ere now, convicted, and 
suffered death under such evidence, and men have said that 
the finger of God was in it. In thine own land, royal brother, 
and upon such an occasion, the matter was tried by a solemn 
duel betwixt the man and the dog, as appellant and defendant 
in a challenge of murder. The dog was victorious; the man 
was punished, and the crime was confessed. Credit me, royal 
brother, that hidden crimes have often been brought to light 
| by the testimony even of inanimate substances, not to mention 
animals far inferior in instinctive sagacity to the dog, who is 
the friend and companion of our race.” 

“Such a duel there hath indeed been, royal brother,” an¬ 
swered Philip, “ and that in the reign of one of our predeces- 
I sors, to whom God be gracious. But it was in the olden time, 

| nor can we hold it a precedent fitting for this occasion. The 
I defendant in that case was a private gentleman, of small rank 
or respect; his offensive weapons were only a club, his defen¬ 
sive a leathern jerkin. But we cannot degrade a prince to the 
disgrace of using such rude arms, or to the ignominy of such 
a combat.” 

“ I never meant that you should,” said King Richard; “ it 
were foul play to hazard the good hound’s life against that of 
such a double-faced traitor as this Conrade hath proved him¬ 
self. But there lies our own glove: we appeal him to the 
combat in respect of the evidence we brought forth against 
him. A king, at least, is more than the mate of a marquis.” 

Conrade made no hasty effort to seize on the pledge which 
Richard cast into the middle of the assembly, and King Philip 






254 


THE TALISMAN 


had time to reply ere the Marquis made a motion to lift the 
glove. 

“ A king,” said he of France, “ is as much more than a 
match for the Marquis Conrade as a dog would be less. 
Royal Richard, this cannot be permitted. You are the leader 
of our expedition—the sword and buckler of Christendom.” 

“ I protest against such a combat,” said the Venetian pro- 
veditore, 1 “until the King of England shall have repaid the 
fifty thousand bezants which he is indebted to the republic. 
It is enough to be threatened with loss of our debt, should our 
debtor fall by the hands of the pagans, without the additional 
risk of his being slain in brawls amongst Christians concerning 
dogs and banners.” 

“ And I,” said William with the Long Sword, Earl of Salis¬ 
bury, “ protest in my turn against my royal brother perilling 
his life, which is the property of the people of England, in 
such a cause. Here, noble brother, receive back your glove, 
and think only as if the wind had blown it from your hand. 
Mine shall lie in its stead. A king’s son, though with the 
bar sinister 2 on his shield, is at least a match for this marmoset 3 
of a marquis.” 

“ Princes and nobles,” said Conrade, “ I will not accept of 
King Richard’s defiance. He hath been chosen our leader 
against the Saracens, and if his conscience can answer the ac¬ 
cusation of provoking an ally to the field on a quarrel so frivo¬ 
lous, mine, at least, cannot endure the reproach of accepting 
it. But touching his bastard brother, William of Woodstock, 
or against any other who shall adopt, or shall dare to stand 
godfather to, this most false charge, I will defend my honor 
in the lists, and prove whosoever impeaches it a false liar.” 

“ The Marquis of Montserrat,” said the Archbishop of Tyre, 

1 Proveditore: a high office of state in Venice. 

2 Bar sinister: a mark of illegitimacy. 

8 Marmoset: a conceited puppy. 


THE TALISMAN 


255 


“ hath spoken like a wise and moderate gentleman; and me- 
thinks this controversy might, without dishonor to any party, 
end at this point.” 

“ Methinks it might so terminate,” said the King of France, 
“provided King Richard will recall his accusation, as made 
upon over-slight grounds.” 

“Philip of France,” answered Coeur-de-Lion, “my words 
shall never do my thoughts so much injury. I have charged 
yonder Conrade as a thief, who, under cloud of night, stole from 
its place the emblem of England’s dignity. I still believe and 
charge him to be such; and when a day is appointed for the 
combat, doubt not that, since Conrade declines to meet us in 
person, I will find a champion to appear in support of my 
challenge; for thou, William, must not thrust thy long sword 
into this quarrel without our special license.” 

“Since my rank makes me arbiter in this most unhappy 
matter,” said Philip of France, “I appoint the fifth day from 
hence for the decision thereof, by way of combat, according to 
knightly usage — Richard King of England to appear by his 
champion as appellant, and Conrade Marquis of Montserrat 
in his own person as defendant. Yet I own, I know not where 
to find neutral ground where such a quarrel may be fought out ‘ 
for it must not be in the neighborhood of this camp, where the 
soldiers would make faction on the different sides.” 

“ It were well,” said Richard, “ to apply to the generosity of 
the royal Saladin, since, heathen as he is, I have never known 
knight more fulfilled of nobleness, or to whose good faith we 
may so peremptorily entrust ourselves. I speak thus for those 
who may be doubtful of mishap ; for myself, wherever I see my 
foe, I make that spot my battle-ground.” 

“ Be it so,” said Philip; “we will make this matter known 
to Saladin, although it be showing to an enemy the unhappy 
spirit of discord which we would willingly hide from even our¬ 
selves, were it possible. Meanwhile, I dismiss this assembly, 




256 


THE TALISMAN 


and charge you all, as Christian men and noble knights, that 
ye let this unhappy feud breed no farther brawling in the camp, 
but regard it as a thing solemnly referred to the judgment of 
God, to whom each of you should pray that He will dispose of 
victory in the combat according to the truth of the quarrel; and 
therewith may His will be done ! ” 

“ Amen — amen ! ” was answered on all sides; while the 
Templar whispered the Marquis : “ Conrade, wilt thou not add 
a petition to be delivered from the power of the dog, as the 
Psalmist hath it ? ” 

“Peace, thou-!” replied the Marquis; “there is a 

revealing demon abroad, which may report, amongst other 
tidings, how far thou dost carry the motto of thy order: 
Feriatur leo” 1 

“ Thou wilt stand the brunt of challenge ? ” said the Templar. 

“ Doubt me not,” said Conrade. “ I would not, indeed, have 
willingly met the iron arm of Richard himself, and I shame 
not to confess that I rejoice to be free of his encounter. But, 
from his bastard brother downward, the man breathes not in 
his ranks whom I fear to meet.” 

“It is well you are so confident,” continued the Templar; 
“ and in that case the fangs of yonder hound have done more 
to dissolve this league of princes than either thy devices or the 
dagger of the Charegite. Seest thou how, under a brow 
studiously overclouded, Philip cannot conceal the satisfaction 
which he feels at the prospect of release from the alliance which 
sat so heavy on him ? Mark how Henry of Champagne smiles 
to himself, like a sparkling goblet of his own wine; and see the 
chuckling delight of Austria, who thinks his quarrel is about 
to be avenged, without risk or trouble of his own. Hush, he 
approaches. A most grievous chance, most royal Austria, that 
these breaches in the walls of our Zion-” 

“ If thou meanest this Crusade,” replied the Duke, “ I would 
1 Let the lion be struck. 




THE TALISMAN 


257 


it were crumbled to pieces, and each were safe at home! I 
speak this in confidence.” 

“ But,” said the Marquis of Montserrat, “ to think this dis¬ 
union should be made by the hands of King Richard, for whose 
pleasure we have been contented to endure so much, and to 
whom we have been as submissive as slaves to a master, in 
hopes that he would use his valor against our enemies, instead 
of exercising it upon our friends! ” 

“I see not that he is so much more valorous than others,” 
said the Archduke. “ I believe, had the noble Marquis met him 
in the lists, he would have had the better; for, though the 
islander deals heavy blows with the pole-axe, he is not so very 
dexterous with the lance. I should have cared little to have 
met him myself on our old quarrel, had the weal of Christendom 
permitted to sovereign princes to breathe themselves in the lists. 
And if thou desirest it, noble Marquis, I will myself be your 
godfather in this combat.” 

“ And I also,” said the Grand Master. 

“ Come, then, and take your nooning in our tent, noble sirs,” 
said the Duke, “ and we’ll speak of this business over some 
right Nierenstein.” 


CHAPTER XXV 

Yet this inconstancy is such 
As thou, too, shalt adore ; 

I could not love thee, love, so much, 

Loved I not honor more. 

Montrose’s Lines. 

When King Richard returned to his tent, he commanded 
the Nubian to be brought before him. He entered with his 
usual ceremonial reverence, and, having prostrated himself, 
remained standing before the King, in the attitude of a slave 
s 




258 


THE TALISMAN 


awaiting the orders of his master. It was perhaps well for 
him that the preservation of his character required his eyes to 
be fixed on the ground, since the keen glance with which 
Richard for some time surveyed him in silence would, if fully j 
encountered, have been difficult to sustain. 

“ Thou canst well of woodcraft,” said the King, after a 
pause, “and hast started thy game and brought him to bay 
as ably as if Tristrem himself had taught thee. But this is j 
not all: he must be brought down at force. I myself would 
have liked to have levelled my hunting-spear at him. There ' 
are, it seems, respects which prevent this. Thou art about to 
return to the camp of the Soldan, bearing a letter, requiring . 
of his courtesy to appoint neutral ground for the deed of 
chivalry, and, should it consist with his pleasure, to concur ■ 
with us in witnessing it. Now, speaking conjecturally, we . 
think thou might’st find in that camp some cavalier who, for 
the love of truth and his own augmentation of honor, will do 
battle with this same traitor of Montserrat 1 ” 

The Nubian raised his eyes and fixed them on the King 
with a look of eager ardor; then raised them to Heaven with j: 
such solemn gratitude, that the water soon glistened in them; 
then bent his head, as affirming what Richard desired, and \ 
resumed his usual posture of submissive attention. 

“It is well,” said the King; “and I see thy desire to oblige | 
me in this matter. And herein, I must needs say, lies the | 
excellence of such a servant as thou, who hast not speech : 
either to debate our purpose or to require explanation of what I 
we have determined. An English serving-man, in thy place, I 
had given me his dogged advice to trust the combat with some • 
good lance of my household, who, from my brother Longsword ! 
downwards, are all on fire to do battle in my cause; and a 
chattering Frenchman had made a thousand attempts to dis- i 
cover wherefore I look for a champion from the camp of the { 
infidels. But thou, my silent agent, canst do mine errand ! : l 



THE TALISMAN’ 259 

without questioning or comprehending it; with thee to hear 
is to obey.” 

A bend of the body, and a genuflection, were the appropriate 
! answer of the Ethiopian to these observations. 

“And now to another point,” said the King, and speaking 
suddenly and rapidly. “ Have you yet seen Edith Plan- 
tagenet ? ” 

The mute looked up as in the act of being about to speak — 
nay, his lips had begun to utter a distinct negative — when 
the abortive attempt died away in the imperfect murmurs 
1 of the dumb. 

“ Why, lo you there ! ” said the King. “ The very sound of 
| the name of a royal maiden, of beauty so surpassing as that 

[ of our lovely cousin, seems to have power enough wellnigh to 

[ make the dumb speak! What miracles then might her eye 
I work upon such a subject! I will make the experiment, friend 
j slave. Thou shalt see this choice beauty of our court, and do 
| the errand of the princely Soldan.” 

Again a joyful glance, again a genuflection; but, as he 
! arose, the King laid his hand heavily on his shoulder, and 

proceeded with stern gravity thus: “Let me in one thing 

warn you, my sable envoy. Even if thou shouldst feel that 
the kindly influence of her whom thou art soofi to behold 
should loosen the bonds of thy tongue, presently imprisoned, 
as the good Soldan expresses it, within the ivory walls of its 
castle, beware how thou changest thy taciturn character, or 
speakest a word in her presence, even if thy powers of utter¬ 
ance were to be miraculously restored. Believe me, that I 
should have thy tongue extracted by the roots, and its ivory 
palace, that is, I presume, its range of teeth, drawn out one 
by one. Wherefore, be wise and silent still.” 

The Nubian, so soon as the King had removed his heavy 
grasp from his shoulder, bent his head, and laid his hand on 
his lips, in token of silent obedience. 




260 


THE TALISMAN 


But Richard again laid his hand on him more gently, and 
added: “ This behest we lay on thee as on a slave. Wert thou 
knight and gentleman, we would require thine honor in pledge of 
thy silence, which is one especial condition of our present trust.” 

The Ethiopian raised his body proudly, looked full at the 
King, and laid his right hand on his heart. 

Richard then summoned his chamberlain. 

“ Go, Neville,” he said, “ with this slave, to the tent of our 
royal consort, and say it is our pleasure that he have an 
audience — a private audience — of our cousin Edith. He is 
charged with a commission to her. Thou canst show him the 
way also, in case he requires thy guidance, though thou may’st 
have observed it is wonderful how familiar he already seems 
to be with the purlieus 1 of our camp. And thou, too, friend 
Ethiop,” the King continued, “what thou dost, do quickly, 
and return hither within the half-hour.” 

“I stand discovered,” thought the seeming Nubian, as, with 
downcast looks and folded arms, he followed the hasty stride 
of Neville towards the tent of Queen Berengaria — “I stand 
undoubtedly discovered and unfolded to King Richard; yet 
I cannot perceive that his resentment is hot against me. If I 
understand his words, and surely it is impossible to misinter¬ 
pret them, he gives me a noble chance of redeeming my honor 
upon the crest of this false marquis, whose guilt I read in his 
craven eye and quivering lip, when the charge was made against 
him. Roswal, faithfully hast thou served thy master, and 
most dearly shall thy wrong be avenged! But what is the 
meaning of my present permission to look upon her whom I 
had despaired ever to see again 1 And why or how can the 
royal Plantagenet consent that I should see his divine kins¬ 
woman, either as the messenger of the heathen Saladin or as 
the guilty exile whom he so lately expelled from his camp, his 
audacious avowal of the affection which is his pride being the 
1 Purlieus : the outer portions. 


THE TALISMAN 


261 


greatest enhancement of his guilt 1 That Richard should con¬ 
sent to her receiving a letter from an infidel lover, and by the 
hands of one of such disproportioned rank, are either of them 
! circumstances equally incredible, and, at the same time, incon¬ 
sistent with each other. But Richard, when unmoved by his 
heady passions, is liberal, generous, and truly noble, and as 
such I will deal with him, and act according to his instructions, 
direct or implied, seeking to know no more than may gradually 
unfold itself without my officious inquiry. To him who has 
given me so brave an opportunity to vindicate my tarnished 
honor I owe acquiescence and obedience, and, painful as it may 
be, the debt shall be paid. And yet ” — thus the proud swelling 
of his heart farther suggested — “ Coeur-de-Lion, as he is called, 
might have measured the feelings of others by his own. I 
urge an address to his kinswoman ! /, who never spoke word 

to her when I took a royal prize from her hand, when I was 
accounted not the lowest in feats of chivalry among the de¬ 
fenders of the Cross ! I approach her when in a base disguise, 
and in a servile habit, and, alas ! when my actual condition is 
that of a slave, with a spot of dishonor on that which was once 
my shield! I do this ! He little knows me. Yet I thank 
him for the opportunity which may make us all better ac¬ 
quainted with each other.” 

As he arrived at this conclusion, they paused before the en¬ 
trance of the Queen’s pavilion. 

They were of course admitted by the guards, and Neville, 
leaving the Nubian in a small apartment or ante-chamber, 
which was but too well remembered by him, passed into that 
which was used as the Queen’s presence-chamber. He com¬ 
municated his royal master’s pleasure in a low and respectful 
tone of voice, very different from the bluntness of Thomas de 
Vaux, to whom Richard was everything, and the rest of the 
court, including Berengaria herself, was nothing. A burst of 
laughter followed the communication of his errand. 



262 


THE TALISMAN 


“And what like is the Nubian slave, who comes ambassador 
on such an errand from the Soldan — a negro, De Neville, is he 
not ? ” said a female voice, easily recognized for that of Beren- 
garia. “ A negro, is he not, De Neville, with black skin, a 
head curled like a ram’s, a flat nose, and blubber lips — ha, 
worthy Sir Henry 1 ” 

“ Let not your Grace forget the shin-bones,” said another ; 
voice, “ bent outwards like the edge of a Saracen scimitar.” 

“ Rather like the bow of a Cupid, since he comes upon a 
lover’s errand,” said the Queen. “Gentle Neville, thou art ] 
ever prompt to pleasure us poor women, who have so little to j 
pass away our idle moments. We must see this messenger j 
of love. Turks and Moors have I seen many, but negro j 
never.” 

“I am created to obey your Grace’s commands, so you will 
bear me out with my sovereign for doing so,” answered the ; 
debonair knight. “ Yet, let me assure your Grace, you will j 
see somewhat different from what you expect.” 

“ So much the better: uglier yet than our imaginations can j 
fancy, yet the chosen love-messenger of this gallant Soldan ! ” 

“Gracious madam,” said the Lady Calista, “may I implore i 
you would permit the good knight to carry this messenger i 
straight to the Lady Edith, to whom his credentials are ad¬ 
dressed 1 We have already escaped hardly for such a frolic.” 

“Escaped!” repeated the Queen, scornfully. “Yet thou 
mayst be right, Calista, in thy caution ; let this Nubian, as . 
thou callest him, first do his errand to our cousin. Besides, he 
is mute too, is he not ? ” 

“ He is, gracious madam,” answered the knight. 

“Royal sport have these Eastern ladies,” said Berengaria, i 
“ attended by those before whom they may say anything, yet 
who can report nothing; whereas in our camp, as the prelate 
of St. Jude’s is wont to say, a bird of the air will carry the 
matter.” 


THE TALISMAN 


263 


“Because/’ said De Neville, “your Grace forgets that you 
' speak within canvas walls.” 

The voices sunk on this observation, and, after a little whis¬ 
pering, the English knight again returned to the Ethiopian, 
and made him a sign to follow. He did so, and Neville con¬ 
ducted him to a pavilion, pitched somewhat apart from that 
of the Queen, for the accommodation, it seemed, of the Lady 
Edith and her attendants. One of her Coptic 1 maidens re- 
} ceived the message communicated by Sir Henry Neville, and, 
in the space of a very few jninutes, the Nubian was ushered 
| into Edith’s presence, while Neville was left on the outside of 
| the tent. The slave who introduced him withdrew on a signal 
[ from her mistress, and it was with humiliation, not of the 
posture only but of the very inmost soul, that the unfortunate 
i knight, thus strangely disguised, threw himself on one knee, 

[ with looks bent on the ground, and arms folded on his bosom, 
like a criminal who expects his doom. Edith was clad in the 
i same manner as when she received King Richard, her long 
transparent dark veil hanging around her like the shade of a 
I summer night on a beautiful landscape, disguising and render- 
| ing obscure the beauties which it could not hide. She held in 
; her hand a silver lamp, fed with some aromatic spirit, which 
j burned with unusual brightness. 

When Edith came within a step of the kneeling and motion- 
1 less slave, she held the light towards his face, as if to peruse 
1 his features more attentively, then turned from him, and placed 
1 her lamp so as to throw the shadow of his face in profile upon 
the curtain which hung beside. She at length spoke in a voice 
composed, yet deeply sorrowful. 

“Is it you ? Is it indeed you, brave Knight of the Leopard 
— gallant Sir Kenneth of Scotland — is it indeed you — thus 
servilely disguised — thus surrounded by an hundred dangers ? ” 

1 Coptic: the Copts are Christian descendants of the ancient Egyp¬ 
tians. 


264 


THE TALISMAN 


At hearing the tones of his lady’s voice thus unexpectedly 
addressed to him, and in a tone of compassion approaching to 
tenderness, a corresponding reply rushed to the knight’s lips, 
and scarce could Richard’s commands, and his own promised 
silence, prevent his answering, that the sight he saw, the 
sounds he just heard, were sufficient to recompense the slavery 
of a life, and dangers which threatened that life every hour. 
He did recollect himself, however, and a deep and im¬ 
passioned sigh was his only reply to the high-born Edith’s 
question. 

“ I see — I know I have guessed right,” continued Edith. 
“ I marked you from your first appearance near the platform 
on which I stood with the Queen. I knew, too, your valiant 
hound. She is no true lady, and is unworthy of the service 
of such a knight as thou art, from whom disguises of dress 
or hue could conceal a faithful servant. Speak, then, without 
fear, to Edith Plantagenet. She knows how to grace in ad¬ 
versity the good knight who served, honored, and did deeds 
of arms in her name when fortune befriended him. Still 
silent! Is it fear or shame that keeps thee so 1 Fear should 
be unknown to thee; and for shame, let it remain with those 
who have wronged thee.” 

The knight, in despair at being obliged to play the mute in 
an interview so interesting, could only express his mortification 
by sighing deeply, and laying his finger upon his lips. Edith 
stepped back as if somewhat displeased. 

“ What! ” she said, “ the Asiatic mute in very deed, as well 
as in attire 1 This I looked not for. Or thou mayst scorn 
me, perhaps, for thus boldly acknowledging that I have heed- 
fully observed the homage thou hast paid me ? Hold no un¬ 
worthy thoughts of Edith on that account. She knows well 
the bounds which reserve and modesty prescribe to high-born 
maidens, and she knows when and how far they should give 
place to gratitude — to a sincere desire that it were in her 


THE TALISMAN 


265 


' power to repay services and repair injuries arising from the 
J devotion -which a good knight bore towards her. Why fold 
; thy hands together, and wring them with so much passion? 
1 Can it be,” she added, shrinking back at the idea, “ that their 
' cruelty has actually deprived thee of speech ? Thou shakest of 
■ thy head. Be it a spell, be it obstinacy, I question thee no 
further, but leave thee to do thine errand after thine own 
" fashion. I also can be mute.” 

The disguised knight made an action as if at once lamenting 
his own condition and deprecating her displeasure, while at the 
same time he presented to her, wrapped, as usual, in fine silk 

I and cloth of gold, the letter of the Soldan. She took it, sur- 
f veyed it carelessly, then laid it aside, and bending her eyes once 
"more on the knight, she said in a low tone : “Not even a word 
Ho do thine errand to me ? ” 

r He pressed both his hands to his brow, as if to intimate the 
‘ pain which he felt at being unable to obey her; but she turned 
J from him in anger. 

“ Begone ! ” she said. “ I have spoken enough—too much — 
to one who will not waste on me a word in reply. Begone !. 

II and say, if I have -wronged thee, I have done penance; for if I 
have been the unhappy means of dragging thee down from a 

Station of honor, I have, in this interview, forgotten my own 
"worth and lowered myself in thy eyes and in my own.” 

11 She covered her eyes with her hand, and seemed deeply 
igitated. Sir Kenneth would have approached, but she waved 


Him back. 

11 “ Stand off! thou whose soul Heaven hath suited to its new 
Station ! Aught less dull and fearful than a slavish mute had 
’spoken a word of gratitude, were it but to reconcile me to my 
‘own degradation. Why pause you ? Begone ! ” 

The disguised knight almost involuntarily looked towards the 
letter as an apology for protracting his stay. She snatched it 
up, saying, in a tone of irony and contempt: “I had forgotten 


266 


TEE TALISMAN 


— the dutiful slave waits an answer to his message. How’s 
this — from the Soldan ! ” 

She hastily ran over the contents, which were expressed both 
in Arabic and French, and when she had done, she laughed in 
bitter anger. 

“ Now this passes imagination,” she said : “no jongleur can 
show so deft a transmutation. His legerdemain can transform 
zechins 1 and bezants into doits 2 and maravedies; 3 but can his 
art convert a Christian knight, ever esteemed among the bravest 
of the Holy Crusade, into the dust-kissing slave of a heathenj 
Soldan — the bearer of a paynim’s insolent proposals to a: 
Christian maiden — nay, forgetting the laws of honorable! 
chivalry, as well as of religion 1 But it avails not talking ftcj 
the willing slave of a heathen hound. Tell your master, whenj 
his scourge shall have found thee a tongue, that which thou 
hast seen me do.” So saying, she threw the Soldan’s letter 
on the ground, and placed her foot upon it. “ And say tc 
him, that Edith Plantagenet scorns the homage of an un 
christened pagan.” 

With these words she was about to shoot from the knight, 
when, kneeling at her feet in bitter agony, he ventured to laj 
his hand upon her robe and oppose her departure. 

“ Heardst thou not what I said, dull slave ? ” she said, turn j 
ing short round on him, and speaking with emphasis : “ tell th: 
heathen Soldan, thy master, that I scorn his suit as much at 
I despise the prostration of a worthless renegade to religion anti 
chivalry — to God and to his lady ! ” 'A j 

So saying, she burst from him, tore her garment from hi 
grasp, and left the tent. 

The voice of Neville, at the same time, summoned him froii 
without. Exhausted and stupefied by the distress he had uu 

1 Zechin : a Venetian coin worth about $2.25. 

2 Doit: a small Dutch coin worth a fourth of a cent. 

3 Maravedie: a Spanish copper coin worth three mills. 





THE TALISMAN 


267 


dergone during this interview, from which he could only have 
extricated himself by breach of the engagement which he had 
1 formed with King Richard, the unfortunate knight staggered 
: rather than walked after the English baron, till they reached 
the royal pavilion, before which a party of horsemen had just 
| dismounted. There was light and motion within the tent, and 
; when Neville entered with his disguised attendant, they found 
' the King, with several of his nobility, engaged in welcoming 
1 those who were newly arrived. 

CHAPTER XXVI 

The tears I shed must ever fall! 

I weep not for an absent swain; 

For time may happier hours recall, 

And parted lovers meet again. 

I weep not for the silent dead ; 

Their pains are past, their sorrows o’er, 

And those that loved their steps must tread, 

When death shall join to part no more. 

But worse than absence, worse than death, 

She wept her lover’s sullied fame, 

And, fired with all the pride of birth, 

She wept a soldier’s injured name. 

Ballad. 

The frank and bold voice of Richard was heard in joyous 
gratulation. 

“ Thomas de Vaux ! — stout Tom of the Gills ! by the head 
of King Henry, thou art welcome to me as ever was flask of 
wine to a jolly toper! I should scarce have known how to 
order my battle array, unless I had thy bulky form in mine 
eye as a landmark to form my ranks upon. We shall have 
blows anon, Thomas, if the saints be gracious to us; and had 



268 


THE TALISMAN 


we fought in thine absence, I would have looked to hear of thy 
being found hanging upon an elder-tree.” 

“ I should have borne ray disappointment with more Christian 
patience, I trust,” said Thomas de. Yaux, “ than to have died 
the death of an apostate. But I thank your Grace for my wel¬ 
come, which is the more generous, as it respects a banquet of 
blows, of which, saving your pleasure, you are ever too apt to 
engross the larger share ; but here have I brought one to whom 
your Grace will, I know, give a yet warmer welcome.” 

The person who now stepped forward to make obeisance to 
Richard was a young man of low stature and slight form. His 
dress was as modest as his figure was unimpressive ; but he bore 
on his bonnet a gold buckle, with a gem the lustre of which 
could only be rivalled by the brilliancy of the eye which the 
bonnet shaded. It was the only striking feature in his coun¬ 
tenance ; but when once noticed, it ever made a strong impres¬ 
sion on the spectator. About his neck there hung in a scarf 
of sky-blue silk, a “ wrest,” as it was called — that is, the key 
with which a harp is tuned, and which was of solid gold. 

This personage would have kneeled reverently to Richard, 
but the monarch raised him in joyful haste, pressed him to his 
bosom warmly, and kissed him on either side of the face. 

“ Blondel de Nesle ! ” he exclaimed, joyfully; “ welcome from 
Cyprus, my king of minstrels ! — welcome to the King of Eng¬ 
land, who rates not his own dignity more highly than he does 
thine. I have been sick, man, and, by my soul, I believe it 
was for lack, of thee; for, were I halfway to the gate of 
Heaven, methinks thy strains could call me back. And what: 
news, my gentle master, from the land of the lyre ? Anything 
fresh from the trouveurs of Provence — anything from the min¬ 
strels of merry Normandy — above all, hast thou thyself been 
busy ? But I need not ask thee — thou canst not be idle, if 
thou wouldst: thy noble qualities are like a fire burning within, 
and compel thee to pour thyself out in music and song.” 


THE TALISMAN 


269 


“Something I have learned, and something I have done, 
noble king,” answered the celebrated Blondel, with a retiring 
modesty which all Richard’s enthusiastic admiration of his skill 
had been unable to banish. 

“We will hear thee, man — we will hear thee instantly,” 
said the King; then touching Blondel’s shoulder kindly, he 
added : “ That is, if thou art not fatigued with thy journey; 
for I would sooner ride my best horse to death than injure a 
note of thy voice.” 

“ My voice is, as ever, at the service of my royal patron,” 
said Blondel; “ but your Majesty,” he added, looking at some 
papers on the table, “ seems more importantly engaged, and the 
hour waxes late.” 

“Not a whit, mannot a whit, my dearest Blondel. I 
did but sketch an array of battle against the Saracens — 
a thing of a moment, almost as soon done as the routing 
of them.” 

“Methinks, hovrever,” said Thomas de Vaux, “it were not 
unfit to inquire what soldiers your Grace hath to array. I 
bring reports on that subject from Ascalon.” 

“ Thou art a mule, Thomas, 5 ' said the King — “ a very mule 
for dulness and obstinacy. Come, nobles — a hall a hail ! — 
range ye around him. Give Blondel the tabouret. W here is 
his harp bearer? or, soft —lend him my harp, his own may be 
damaged by the journey.” 

“ I would your Grace would take my report,” said Thomas 
de Vaux. “I have ridden far, and have more list to my bed 
than to have my ears tickled.” 

“ Thy ears tickled ! ” said the King ; “ that must be with a 
woodcock’s feather, and not with sweet sounds. Hark thee, 
Thomas, do thine ears know the singing of Blondel from the 
braying of an ass ? ” 

“In faith, my liege,” replied Thomas, “I cannot well say; 
but, setting Blondel out of the question, who is a born gentle- 


270 


THE TALISMAN 


man, and doubtless of high acquirements, I shall never, for the 
sake of your Grace’s question, look on a minstrel but I shall 
think upon an ass.” 

“And might not your manners,” said Richard, “have ex¬ 
cepted me, who am a gentleman born as well as Blondel, and, 
like him, a guild-brother of the joyeuse science ? ” 1 

“Your Grace should remember,” said De Yaux, smiling, 
“ that ’tis useless asking for manners from a mule.” 

. “ Most truly spoken,” said the King; “ and an ill-conditioned 

animal thou art. But come hither, master mule, and be un¬ 
loaded, that thou mayst get thee to thy litter, without any 
music being wasted on thee. Meantime, do thou, good brother 
of Salisbury, go to our consort’s tent, and tell her that Blondel 
has arrived, with his budget fraught with the newest minstrelsy, i 
Bid her come hither instantly, and do thou escort her, and see 
that our cousin, Edith Plantagenet, remain not behind.” 

His eye then rested for a moment on the Nubian, with that 
expression of doubtful meaning which his countenance usually 
displayed when he looked at him. 

“Ha, our silent and secret messenger returned? Stand up, ] 
slave, behind the back of De Neville, and thou shalt hear | 
presently sounds which will make thee bless God that He 
afflicted thee rather with dumbness than deafness.” 

So saying, he turned from the rest of the company towards j 
De Vaux, and plunged instantly into the military details which i 
that baron laid before him. 

About the time that the Lord of Gilsland had finished his i 
audience, a messenger announced that the Queen and her at- j 
tendants were approaching the royal tent. “ A flask of wine, j 
ho ! said the King — “ of old King Isaac’s long-saved Cyprus, j 
which we won when we stormed Famagosta; 2 fill to the stout I 

1 Art of minstrelsy. 

2 Famagosta: a seaport of Cyprus taken by Richard on his way to ' 

the Holy Land. J 


THE TALISMAN 


271 


| Lord of Gilsland, gentles — a more careful and faithful servant 
never had any prince. ” 

“I am glad,” said Thomas de Vaux, “that your Grace finds 
»the mule a useful slave, though his voice be less musical than 
j horse-hair or wire.” 

“ What, thou canst not yet digest that quip of the mule ? ” 

| said Richard. “Wash it down with a brimming flagon, 
man, or thou wilt choke upon it. Why, so — well pulled! 

I And now I will tell thee, thou art a soldier as well as I, 
j and we must brook each other’s jests in the hall, as each' 
other’s blows in the tourney, and love each other the harder 

I we hit. By my faith, if thou didst not hit me as hard as 

II did thee in our late encounter, thou gavest all thy wit 
j to the thrust. But here lies the difference betwixt thee and 
j Blondel. Thou art but my comrade — I might say my pupil 
j — in the art of war; Blondel is my master in the science 
! of minstrelsy and music. To thee I permit the freedom of 
| intimacy; to him I must do reverence, as to my superior in 

his art. Come, man, be not peevish, but remain and hear 
our glee.” 

“To see your Majesty in such cheerful mood,” said the 
l Lord of Gilsland, “ by my faith, I could remain till Blondel 
! had achieved the great romance of King Arthur, which lasts 
: for three days.” 

“We will not tax your patience so deeply,” said the King. 
“ But see, yonder glare of torches without shows that our con¬ 
sort approaches. Away to receive her, man, and win thyself 
grace in the brightest eyes of Christendom. Nay, never stop 
to adjust thy cloak. See, thou hast let Neville come between 
the wind and the sails of thy galley ! ” 

“He was never before me in the field of battle,” said De 
Yaux, not greatly pleased to see himself anticipated by the 
more active service of the chamberlain. 

“ No, neither he nor any one went before thee there, my 


272 


THE TALISMAN 


good Tom of the Gills,”' said the King, “ unless it was ourself, 
now and then.” 

“Ay, my liege,” said De Yaux, “and let us do justice to the 
unfortunate : the unhappy Knight of the Leopard hath been 
before me, too, at a season; for, look you, he weighs less on 
horseback, and so-” 

“ Hush ! ” said the King, interrupting him in a peremptory 
tone, “ not a word of him! ” and instantly stepped forward to 
greet his royal consort; and when he had done so, he presented 
to her Blondel, as king of minstrelsy, and his master in the 
gay science. Berengaria, who well knew that her royal hus¬ 
band’s passion for poetry and music almost equalled his ap¬ 
petite for warlike fame, and that Blondel was his especial 
favorite, took anxious care to receive him with all the flatter¬ 
ing distinctions due to one whom the King delighted to honor. 
Yet it was evident that, though Blondel made suitable returns 
to the compliments showered on him something too abun¬ 
dantly by the royal beauty, he owned with deeper reverence 
and more humble gratitude the simple and graceful welcome 
of Edith, whose kindly greeting appeared to him, perhaps, sin¬ 
cere m proportion to its brevity and simplicity. 

Both the Queen and her royal husband were aware of this 
distinction, and Richard, seeing his consort somewhat piqued 
at the preference assigned to his cousin, by which perhaps he 
himself did not feel much gratified, said in the hearing of 
both: “We minstrels, Berengaria, as thou mayst see by the 
bearing of our master Blondel, pay more reverence to a severe 
judge like our kinswoman than to a kindly, partial friend like 
thyself, who is willing to take our worth upon trust.” 

Edith was moved by this sarcasm of her royal kinsman, and 
hesitated not to reply, that, “To be a harsh and severe judge 
was not an attribute proper to her alone of all the Plan- 
tagenets.” 

She had perhaps said more, having some touch of the tern- 



THE TALISMAN 


273 


| per of that house, which, deriving their name and cognizance 
from the lowly broom (Planta Genista ), assumed as an em- 
j blem of humility, were perhaps one of the proudest families 
that ever ruled in England ; but her eye, when kindling in her 
reply, suddenly caught those of the Nubian, although he en- 
| deavored to conceal himself behind the nobles who were pres- 
j ent, and she sunk upon a seat, turning so pale that the Queen 
I Berengaria deemed herself obliged to call for water and 
essences, and to go through the other ceremonies appropriate 
to a lady’s swoon. Richard, who better estimated Edith’s 
strength of mind, called to Blondel to assume his seat and 
commence his lay, declaring that minstrelsy was worth every 
other recipe to recall a Plantagenet to life. “ Sing us,” he 
said, “that song of the Bloody Vest, of which thou didst 
formerly give me the argument, ere I left Cyprus; thou must 
be perfect in it by this time, or, as our yeomen say, thy bow 
is broken.” 

The anxious eye of the minstrel, however, dwelt on Edith, 
and it was not till he observed her returning color that he 
obeyed the repeated commands of the King. Then, accom¬ 
panying his voice with the harp, so as to grace, but yet not 
drown, the sense of what he sung, he chanted in a sort of reci¬ 
tative one of those ancient adventures of love and knighthood 
which were wont of yore to win the public attention. So soon 
as he began to prelude, the insignificance of his personal ap¬ 
pearance seemed to disappear, and his countenance glowed 
with energy and inspiration. His full, manly, mellow voice, so 
absolutely under command of the purest taste, thrilled on every 
ear and to every heart. Richard, rejoiced as after victory, 
called out the appropriate summons for silence, 

“ Listen, lords, in bower and hall ” ; 

while, with the zeal of a patron at once and a pupil, he ar¬ 
ranged the circle around, and hushed them into silence, and 

T 




274 


THE TALISMAN 


he himself sat down with an air of expectation and interest, 
not altogether unmixed with the gravity of the professed 
critic. The courtiers turned their eyes on the King, that 
they might be ready to trace and imitate the emotions his 
features should express, and Thomas de Vaux yawned tre¬ 
mendously, as one who submitted unwillingly to a wearisome 
penance. The song of Blondel was of course in the Norman 
language; but the verses which follow express its meaning and 
its manner. 


THE BLOODY VEST 

’Twas near the fair city of Benevent, 

When the sun was setting on bough and bent, 

And knights were preparing in bower and tent 
On the eve of the Baptist’s tournament; 

When in Lincoln green a stripling gent, 

Well seeming a page by a princess sent, 

Wander’d the camp, and, still as he went, 

Inquired for the Englishman, Thomas a Kent. 

Ear hath he fared, and farther must fare, 

Till he finds his pavilion nor stately nor rare — 

Little save iron and steel was there ; 

And, as lacking the coin to pay armorer’s care, 

With his sinewy arms to the shoulders bare, 

The good knight with hammer and file did repair 
The mail that to-morrow must see him wear, 

For the honor of St. John and his lady fair. 

“ Thus speaks my lady,” the page said he, 

And the knight bent lowly both head and knee, 

“ She is Benevent’s princess so high in degree, 

And thou art as lowly as knight may well be ; 

He that would climb so lofty a tree, 

Or spring such a gulf as divides her from thee, 

Must dare some high deed, by which all men may see 
His ambition is back’d by his hie chivalrie, 


THE TALISMAN 


275 


“ Therefore thus speaks my lady,” the fair page he said, 

And the knight lowly louted with hand and with head, 

“ Fling aside the good armor in which thou art clad, 

And don thou this weed of her night-gear instead, 

For a hauberk of steel, a kirtle of thread ; 

And charge, thus attired, in the tournament dread, 

And fight as thy wont is where most blood is shed, 

And bring honor away, or remain with the dead.” 

Untroubled in his look, and untroubled in his breast, 

The knight the weed’ hath taken and reverently hath kissed — 

“ Now blessed be the moment, the messenger be blest! 

Much honor’d do I hold me in my lady’s high behest; 

And say unto my lady, in this dear night-weed dress’d, 

To the best-armed champion I will not veil my crest. 

But if I live and bear me well ’tis her turn to take the test.” 

Here, gentles, ends the foremost fytte of the Lay of the Bloody 
Vest. 


“ Thou hast changed the measure upon us unawares in that 
last couplet, my Blondel ? ” said the King. 

“ Most true, my lord,” said Blondel. “ I rendered the verses 
from the Italian of an old harper whom I met in Cyprus, and 
not having had time either to translate it accurately or commit 
it to memory, I am fain to supply gaps in the music and the 
verse as I can upon the spur of the moment, as you see boors 
mend a quickset fence with a fagot.” 

“ Nay, on my faith,” said the King, “ I like these rattling 
rolling Alexandrines : 1 methinks they come more twangingly off 
to the music than that briefer measure.” 

“ Both are licensed, as is well known to your Grace,” an¬ 
swered Blondel. 

“They are so, Blondel,” said Richard; “yet methinks the 
scene, where there is like to be fighting, will go best on in 
these same thundering Alexandrines, which sound like the 

i Alexandrine: an English line of poetry having twelve syllables. 



27G 


THE TALISMAN 


charge of cavalry; while the other measure is but like the side¬ 
long amble of a lady’s palfrey.” 

“It shall be as your Grace pleases,” replied Blondel, and 
began again to prelude. 

“ Nay, first cherish thy fancy with a cup of fiery Chios 
wine,” said the King; “ and hark thee, I would have thee 
fling away that newfangled restriction of thine, of terminating 
in accurate and similar rhymes. They are a constraint on thy 
flow of fancy, and make thee resemble a man dancing in 
fetters.” 

“The fetters are easily flung off, at least,” said Blondel, 
again sweeping his fingers over the strings, as one who would 
rather have played than listened to criticism. 

“But why put them on, man?” continued the King. 
“ Wherefore thrust thy genius into iron bracelets ? I marvel 
how you got forward at all: I am sure I should not have been 
able to compose a stanza in yonder hampered measure.” 

Blondel looked down and busied himself with the strings of 
his harp, to hide an involuntary smile which crept over his 
features ; but it escaped not Richard’s observation. 
u “By my faith, thou laugh’st at me, Blondel,” he said; 

and, in good truth, every man deserves it who presumes to 
play the master when he should be the pupil; but we kings 
get bad habits of self-opinion. Come, on with thy lay, dearest 
Blondel — on after thine own fashion, better than aught that 
we can suggest, though we must needs be talking.” 

Blondel resumed the lay; but, as extemporaneous composi¬ 
tion was familiar to him, he failed not to comply with the 
King’s hints, and was perhaps not displeased to show with 
how much ease he could new-model a poem even while in the 
act of recitation. 


THE TALISMAN 


277 


THE BLOODY VEST 
Fytte 1 Second 

The Baptist’s fair morrow beheld gallant feats : 

There was winning of honor and losing of seats, 

There was hewing with falchions and splintering of staves; 

The victors won glory, the vanquished won graves. 

Oh, many a knight there fought bravely and well, 

Yet one was accounted his peers to excel, 

And ’twas he whose sole armor on body and breast 
Seem’d the weed of a damsel when bound for her rest. 

There were some dealt him wounds that were bloody and sore, 
But others respected his plight, and forebore. 

“ It is some oath of honor,” they said, “ and I trow, 

’Twere unknightly to slay him achieving his vow.” 

Then the prince, for his sake, bade the tournament cease : 

He flung down his warder, the trumpets sung peace ; 

And the judges declare, and competitors yield, 

That the Knight of the Niglit-gea^ was first in the field. 

The feast it was nigh, and the mass it was nigher, 

When before the fair princess low touted a squire, 

And deliver’d a garment unseemly to view, 

With sword-cut and spear-thrust all hack’d and pierced through, 
All rent and all tatter’d, all clotted with blood, 

With foam of the horses, with dust, and with mud. 

Not the point of that lady’s small finger, I ween, 

Could have rested on spot was unsullied and clean. 

“This token my master, Sir Thomas a Kent, 

Restores to the princess of fair Benevent. 

He that climbs the tall tree has won right to the fruit, 

He that leaps the wide gulf should prevail in his suit; 

Through life’s utmost peril the prize I have won, 

And now must the faith of my mistress be shown ; 

For she who prompts knights on such danger to run 
Must avouch his true service in front of the sun. 

1 Fytte: a song in verse. 


278 


THE TALISMAN 


“ ‘ I restore,’ says my master, * the garment I’ve worn, 

And I claim of the princess to don it in turn ; 

For its stains and its rents she should prize it the more, 

Since by shame ’tis unsullied, though crimson’d with gore.’ ” 
Then deep blush’d the princess ; yet kiss’d she and press’d 
The blood-spotted robes to her lips and her breast. 

“ Go tell my true knight, church and chamber shall show, 

If I value the blood on this garment or no.” 

And when it was time for the nobles to pass, 

In solemn procession to minster and mass, 

The first walk’d the princess in purple and pall, 

But the blood-besmear’d night-robe she wore over all; 

And eke, in the hall, where they all sat at dine, 

When she knelt to her father and proffered the wine, 

Over all her rich robes and state jewels she wore 
That whimple unseemly, bedabbled with gore. 

Then lords whisper’d ladies, as well you may think, 

And ladies replied, with nod, titter, and wink ; 

And the prince, who in anger and shame had look’d down, 
Turn’d at length to his daughter, and spoke with a frown : 

“ Now since thou hast publish’d thy folly and guilt, 

E’en atone with thy hand for the blood thou hast spilt; 

Yet sore for your boldness you both will repent, 

When you wander as exiles from fair Benevent.” 

Then out spoke stout Thomas, in hall where he stood, 

Exhausted and feeble, but dauntless of mood : 

“The blood that I lost for this daughter of thine, 

I pour’d forth as freely as flask gives its wine ; 

And if for my sake she brooks penance and blame, 

Do not doubt I will save her from suffering and shame ; 

And light will she reck of thy princedom and rent, 

When I hail her, in England, the Countess of Kent! ” 

A murmur of applause ran through the assembly, following 
the example of Richard himself, who loaded with praises his 
favorite minstrel, and ended by presenting him with a ring 
of considerable value. The Queen hastened to distinguish 



THE TALISMAN 279 

the favorite by a rich bracelet, and many of the nobles who 
were present followed the royal example. 

“Is our cousin Edith,” said the King, “become insensible 
to the sound of the harp she once loved ? ” 

“She thanks Blondel for his lay,” replied Edith, “but 
doubly the kindness of the kinsman who suggested it.” 

“ Thou art angry, cousin,” said the King — “ angry because 
thou hast heard of a woman more wayward than thyself. But 
you escape me not: I will walk a space homeward with you 
towards the Queen’s pavilion; we must have conference to¬ 
gether ere the night has waned into morning.” 

The Queen and her attendants were now on foot, and the 
other guests withdrew from the royal tent. A train with 
blazing torches, and an escort of archers, awaited Berengaria 
without the pavilion, and she was soon on her way homeward. 
Richard, as he had proposed, walked beside his kinswoman, 
and compelled her to accept of his arm as her support, so that 
they could speak to each other without being overheard. 

“What answer, then, am I to return to the noble Soldan?” 
said Richard. “ The kings and princes are falling from me, 
Edith: this new quarrel hath alienated them once more. I 
would do something for the Holy Sepulchre by composition, 
if not by victory; and the chance of my doing this depends, 
alas ! on the caprice of a woman. I would lay my single spear 
in the rest against ten of the best lances in Christendom, rather 
than argue with a wilful wench, who knows not what is for her 
own good. What answer, coz, am I to return to the Soldan ? 
It must be decisive.” 

“Tell him,” said Edith, “that the poorest of the Plantage- 
nets will rather wed with misery than with misbelief.” 

“Shall I say with slavery , Edith?” said the King. “Me- 
thinks that is nearer thy thoughts.” 

“ There is no room,” said Edith, “ for the suspicion you so 
grossly insinuate. Slavery of the body might have been pitied, 


280 


THE TALISMAN 


but that of the soul is only to be despised. Shame to thee, 
king of Merry England ! Thou hast enthralled both the limbs 
and the spirit of a knight once scarce less famed than thyself.” 

“ Should I not prevent my kinswoman from drinking poison, 
by sullying the vessel which contained it, if I saw no other 
means of disgusting her with the fatal liquor?” replied the 
King. 

“It is thyself,” answered Edith, “that would press me to 
drink poison, because it is proffered in a golden chalice.” 

“ Edith,” said Richard, “I cannot force thy resolution; but' 
beware you shut not the door which Heaven opens. The her¬ 
mit of Engaddi, he whom popes and councils have regarded asj 
a prophet, hath read in the stars that thy marriage shall rec- j 
oncile me with a powerful enemy, and that thy husband shall be! 
Christian, leaving thus the fairest ground to hope that the 
conversion of the Soldan, and the bringing in of the sons of 
Ishmael to the pale of the church, will be the consequence of 
thy wedding with Saladin. Come, thou must make some sacri¬ 
fice rather than mar such happy prospects.” 

“ Men may sacrifice rams and goats,” said Edith, “ but not 
honor and conscience. I have heard that it was the dishonor 
of a Christian maiden which brought the Saracens into Spain; 
the shame of another is no likely mode of expelling them from 
Palestine.” 

“ Dost thou call it shame to become an empress ? ” said the 
King. 

“ I call it shame and dishonor to profane a Christian sacra¬ 
ment by entering into it with an infidel whom it cannot bind; | 
and I call it foul dishonor that I, the descendant of a Christian 
princess, should become of free-will the head of a haram of ! 
heathen concubines.” 

“Well, kinswoman,” said the King, after a pause, “I must 
not quarrel with thee, though I think thy dependent condition 
might have dictated more compliance.” 




THE TALISMAN 


281 


“ My liege,” replied Edith, “ your Grace hath worthily suc¬ 
ceeded to all the wealth, dignity, and dominion of the house of 
Plantagenet; do not, therefore, begrudge your poor kinswoman 
some small share of their pride.” 

“ By my faith, wench,”"said the King, “ thou hast unhorsed 
me with that very word; so we will kiss and be friends. I 
will presently despatch thy answer to Saladin. But, after all, 
coz, were it not better to suspend your answer till you have 
seen him ? Men say he is preeminently handsome.” 

“There is no chance of our meeting, my lord,” said Edith. 

“By St. George, but there is next to a certainty of it,” said 
the King; “for Saladin will doubtless afford us a free field for 
the doing of this new ‘ battle of the standard/ and will witness 
it himself. Berengaria is wild to behold it also, and I dare be 
sworn not a feather of you, her companions and attendants, will 
remain behind—least of all thou thyself, fair coz. But come, 
we have reached the pavilion, and must part, not in unkind¬ 
ness though—nay, thou must seal it with thy lip as well as 
thy hand, sweet Edith; it is my right as a sovereign to kiss 
my pretty vassals.” 

He embraced her respectfully and affectionately, and returned 
through the moonlight camp, humming to himself such snatches 
of Blondel’s lay as he could recollect. 

On his arrival, he lost no time in making up his despatches 
for Saladin, and delivered them to the Nubian, with a charge 
to set out by peep of day on his return to the Soldan. 


282 


THE TALISMAN 


CHAPTER XXVII 

We heard the tecbir, — so these Arabs call 
Their shout of onset, when, with loud acclaim, 

They challenge Heaven to give them victory. 

Siege of Damascus. 

On the subsequent morning, Richard was invited to a con¬ 
ference by Philip of France, in which the latter, with many 
expressions of his high esteem for his brother of England, com¬ 
municated to him, in terms extremely courteous, but too explicit 
to be misunderstood, his positive intention to return to Europe, 
and to the cares of his kingdom, as entirely despairing of future 
success in their undertaking, with their diminished forces and 
civil discords. Richard remonstrated, but in vain; and when 
the conference ended, he received without surprise a manifesto 
from the Duke of Austria and several other princes, announcing 
a resolution similar to that of Philip, and in no modified terms 
assigning for their defection from the cause of the Cross the 
inordinate ambition and arbitrary domination of Richard of 
England. All hopes of continuing the war with any prospect 
of ultimate success were now abandoned, and Richard, while he 
shed bitter tears over his disappointed hopes of glory, was little 
consoled by the recollection that the failure was in some degree 
to be imputed to the advantages which he had given his ene¬ 
mies by his own hasty and imprudent temper. 

“ They had not dared to have deserted my father thus,” he 
said to De Vaux, in the bitterness of his resentment. “No 
slanders they could have uttered against so wise a king would 
have been believed in Christendom; whereas — fool that I 
am ! — I have not only afforded them a pretext for deserting 
me, but even a color for casting all the blame of the rupture 
upon my unhappy foibles.” 

These thoughts were so deeply galling to the King, that De 


THE TALISMAN 283 

Vaux was rejoiced when the arrival of an ambassador from 
Saladin turned his reflections into a different channel. 

This new envoy was an emir much respected by the Soldan, 
whose name was Abdallah el Hadgi. He derived his descent 
| from the family of the Prophet, and the race or tribe of 
Hashem, in witness of which genealogy he wore a green turban 
| of large dimensions. He had also three times performed the 
journey to Mecca, from which he derived his epithet of El 
j Hadgi, or the Pilgrim. Notwithstanding these various preten- 
| sions to sanctity, Abdallah was, for an Arab, a boon companion, 

I who enjoyed a merry tale, and laid aside his gravity so far as to 
j quaff a blythe flagon, when secrecy ensured him against scandal. 

I He was likewise a statesman, whose abilities had been used by 
Saladin in various negotiations with the Christian princes, and 
! particularly with Richard, to whom El Hadgi was personally 
| known and acceptable. Animated by the cheerful acquiescence 
| with which the envoy of Saladin afforded a fair field for the 
combat, a safe-conduct for all who might choose to witness it, 
and offered his own person as a guarantee of his fidelity, Rich¬ 
ard soon forgot his disappointed hopes, and the approaching 
dissolution of the Christian league, in the interesting discussions 
preceding a combat in the lists. 

The station called the Diamond of the Desert was assigned 
| for the place of conflict, as being nearly at an equal distance 
betwixt the Christian and Saracen camps. It was agreed 
j that Conrade of Montserrat, the defendant, with his godfathers, 

| the Archduke of Austria and the Grand Master of the 
Templars, should appear there on the day fixed for the combat, 
with an hundred armed followers, and no more; that Richard 
of England and his brother Salisbury, who supported the accu¬ 
sation, should attend with the same number, to protect his 
champion; and that the Soldan should bring with him a guard 
of five hundred chosen followers, a band considered as not more 
than equal to the two hundred Christian lances. Such persons 



284 


THE TALISMAN 


of consideration as either party chose to invite to witness the 
contest were to wear no other weapons than their swords, and 
to come without defensive armor. The Soldan undertook the 
preparation of the lists, and to provide accommodations and 
refreshments of every kind for all who were to assist at the 
solemnity; and his letters expressed, with much courtesy, the 
pleasure which he anticipated in the prospect of a personal and 
peaceful meeting with the Melech Ric, and his anxious desire to 
render his reception as agreeable as possible. 

All preliminaries being arranged, and communicated to the \ 
defendant and his godfathers, Abdallah the Hadgi was admit- : 
ted to a more private interview, where he heard with delight: 
the strains of Blondel. Having first carefully put his green ; 
turban out of sight, and assumed a Greek cap in its stead, j 
he requited the Norman minstrel’s music with a drinking-song j 
from the Persian, and quaffed a hearty flagon of Cyprus wine, j 
to show that his practice matched his principles. On the | 
next day, grave and sober as the water-drinker Mirglip, he j 
bent his brow to the ground before Saladin’s footstool, and 
rendered to the Soldan an account of his embassy. 

On the day before that appointed for the combat, Conrade 
and his friends set off by daybreak to repair to the place as-; 
signed, and Richard left the camp at the same hour, and for 
the same purpose; but, as had been agreed upon, he took his 
journey by a different route — a precaution which had been 
judged necessary, to prevent the possibility of a quarrel betwixt 
their armed attendants. 

The good King himself was in no humor for quarrelling 
with any one. Nothing could have added to his pleasurable 
anticipations of a desperate and bloody combat in the lists, 
except his being in his own royal person one of the combatants 
and he was half in charity again even with Conrade of Mont¬ 
serrat. Lightly armed, richly dressed, and gay as a bridegrooir 
on the eve of his nuptials, Richard caracoled along by the sidt 



THE TALISMAN 


285 


of Queen Berengaria’s litter, pointing out to her the various 
scenes through which they passed, and cheering with tale and 
song the bosom of the inhospitable wilderness. The former 
route of the Queen’s pilgrimage to Engaddi had been on the 
other side of the chain of mountains, so that the ladies were 
strangers to the scenery of the desert; and though Berengaria 
knew her husband’s disposition too well not to endeavor to 
seem interested in what he was pleased either to say or to 
I sing, she could not help indulging some female fears when 
| she found herself in the howling wilderness with so small an 
escort, which seemed almost like a moving speck on the bosom 
of the plain, and knew, at the same time, they were not so 
distant from the camp of Saladin but what they might be in a 
moment surprised and swept off by an overpowering host of 
his fiery-footed cavalry, should the pagan be faithless enough 
to embrace an opportunity thus tempting. But when she 
hinted these suspicions to Richard, he repelled them with dis¬ 
pleasure and disdain. “It were worse than ingratitude,” he 
said, “ to doubt the good faith of the generous Soldan.” 

Yet the same doubts and fears recurred more than once, not 
to the timid mind of the Queen alone, but to the firmer and 
more candid soul of Edith Plantagenet, who had no such confi¬ 
dence in the faith of the Moslem as to render her perfectly at 
ease when so much in their power; and her surprise had been 
far less than her terror if the desert around had suddenly re¬ 
sounded with the shout of “ Alla hu ! ” and a band of Arab 
cavalry had pounced on them like vultures on their prey. Nor 
were these suspicions lessened when, as evening approached, 
they were aware of a single Arab horseman, distinguished by 
his turban and long lance, hovering on the edge of a small 
eminence like a hawk poised in the air, and who instantly, on 
the appearance of the royal retinue, darted off with the speed 
of the same bird when it shoots down the wind and disappears 
from the horizon. 



286 


THE TALISMAN 


“We must be near the station,” said King Richard; “and 
yonder cavalier is one of Saladin’s outposts ; methinks I hear 
the noise of the Moorish horns and cymbals. Get you into 
order, my hearts, and form yourselves around the ladies 
soldierlike and firmly.” 

As he spoke, each knight, squire, and archer hastily closed 
in upon his appointed ground, and they proceeded in the most 
compact order, which made their numbers appear still smaller; 
and, to say the truth, though there might be no fear, there 
w'as anxiety as well as curiosity, in the attention with which 
they listened to the wild bursts of Moorish music, which came 
ever and anon more distinctly from the quarter in which the 
Arab horseman had been seen to disappear. 

De Vaux spoke in a whisper to the King : “ Were it not 
well, my liege, to send a page to the top of that sandbank ? 
Or would it stand with your pleasure that I prick forward? 
Methinks, by all yonder clash and clang, if there be no more 
than five hundred men beyond the sand-hills, half of the Sol- 
dan’s retinue must be drummers and cymbal-tossers. Shall I 
spur on ? ” 

The baron had checked his horse with the bit, and was just 
about to strike him with the spurs, when the King exclaimed : 
“Not for the world. Such a caution would express suspicion, 
and could do little to prevent surprise, which, however, I ap¬ 
prehend not.” 

They advanced accordingly in close and firm order till they 
surmounted the line of low sand-hills, and came in sight of the 
appointed station, Avhen a splendid, but at the same time a 
startling, spectacle awaited them. 

The Diamond of the Desert, so lately a solitary fountain, 
distinguished only amid the waste by solitary groups of palm- 
trees, was now the centre of an encampment, the embroidered 
flags and gilded ornaments of which glittered far and wide, and 
reflected a thousand rich tints against the setting sun. The 


THE TALISMAN 


287 


coverings of the large pavilions were of the gayest colors — 
scarlet, bright yellow, pale blue, and other gaudy and gleam¬ 
ing hues — and the tops of their pillars, or tent-poles, were 
decorated with golden pomegranates and small silken flags. 
But, besides these distinguished pavilions, there were what 
Thomas de Vaux considered as a portentous number of the 
ordinary black tents of the Arabs, being sufficient, as he con¬ 
ceived, to accommodate, according to the Eastern fashion, a 
host of five thousand men. A number of Arabs and Kurds, 
fully corresponding to the extent of the encampment, were 
hastily assembling, each leading his horse in his hand, and 
their muster was accompanied by an astonishing clamor of 
their noisy instruments of martial music, by which, in all 
ages, the warfare of the Arabs has been animated. 

They soon formed a deep and confused mass of dismounted 
cavalry in front of their encampment, when, at the signal of a 
shrill cry, which arose high over the clamor of the music, 
each cavalier spruug to his saddle. A cloud of dust, arising 
at the moment of this manoeuvre, hid from Richard and his 
attendants the camp, the palm-trees, and the distant ridge of 
mountains, as well as the troops whose sudden movement had 
raised the cloud, and, ascending high over their heads, formed 
itself into the fantastic forms of writhed pillars, domes, and 
minarets. Another shrill yell was heard from the bosom of 
this cloudy tabernacle. It was the signal for the cavalry to 
advance, which they did at full gallop, disposing themselves 
as they came forward, so as to come in at once on the front, 
flanks, and rear of Richard’s little body-guard, who were thus 
surrounded, and almost choked, by the dense clouds of dust 
enveloping them on each side, through which were seen alter¬ 
nately, and lost, the grim forms and wild faces of the Sara¬ 
cens, brandishing and tossing their lances in every possible 
direction, with the wildest cries and halloos, and frequently 
only reining up their horses when within a spear’s length of the 



288 


THE TALISMAN 


Christians, while those in the rear discharged over the heads' 
of both parties thick volleys of arrows. One of these struck 
the litter in which the Queen was seated, who loudly screamed, 
and the red spot was on Richard’s brow in an instant. 

“ Ha ! St. George,” he exclaimed, “ we must take some order 
with this infidel scum ! ” 

But Edith, whose litter was near, thrust her head out, and 
with her hand holding one of the shafts, exclaimed : “ Royal 
Richard, beware what you do : see, these arrows are headless.” 

“ Noble, sensible wench ! ” exclaimed Richard; “ by Heaven, 
thou shamest us all by thy readiness of thought and eye. Be 
not moved, my English hearts,” he exclaimed to his followers : 
“their arrows have no heads, and their spears, too, lack the 
steel points. It is but a wild welcome, after their savage 
fashion, though doubtless they would rejoice to see us daunted 
or disturbed. Move onward, slow and steady.” 

The little phalanx moved forward accordingly, accompanied 
on all sides by the Arabs, with the shrillest and most piercing 
cries, the bowmen, meanwhile, displaying their agility by shoot¬ 
ing as near the crests of the Christians as was possible, without 
actually hitting them, while the lancers charged each other 
with such rude blows of their blunt weapons, that more than 
one of them lost his saddle, and wellnigh his life, in this rough 
sport. All this, though designed to express welcome, had rather 
a doubtful appearance in the eyes of the Europeans. 

As they had advanced nearly halfway towards the camp, 
King Richard and his suite forming, as it were, the nucleus 
round which this tumultuary body of horsemen howled, whooped, 
skirmished, and galloped, creating a scene of indescribable 
confusion, another shrill cry was heard, on which all these 
irregulars, who were on the front and upon the flanks of the 
little body of Europeans, wheeled off, and forming themselves 
into a long and deep column, followed with comparative order 
and silence in the rear of Richard’s troop. The dust began now 




THE TALISMAN 


289 


to dissipate in their front, when there advanced to meet them, 
through that cloudy veil, a body of cavalry of a different and 
more regular description, completely armed with offensive and 
defensive weapons, and who might well have served as a body¬ 
guard to the proudest of Eastern monarchs. This splendid 
troop consisted of five hundred men, and each horse which 
it contained was worth an earl’s ransom. The riders were 
I Georgian and Circassian 1 slaves in the very prime of life; their 
; helmets and hauberks were formed of steel rings, so bright that 
they shone like silver; their vestures were of the gayest colors, 

I and some of cloth of gold or silver; the sashes were twisted 
with silk and gold; their rich turbans were plumed and 
jewelled; and their sabres and poniards, of Damascene steel, 
were adorned with gold and gems on hilt and scabbard. 

This splendid array advanced to the sound of military music, 
and when they met the Christian body, they opened their files 
to the right and left, and let them enter between their ranks. 
Richard now assumed the foremost place in his troop, aware 
that Saladin himself was approaching. Nor was it long when, 
in the centre of his body-guard, surrounded by his' domestic 
-officers, and those hideous negroes who guard the Eastern 
jharam, and whose misshapen forms were rendered yet more 
frightful by the richness of their attire, came the Soldan, with 
the look and manners of one on whose brow nature had written, 
“ This is a king ! ” In his snow-white turban, vest, and wide 
Eastern trousers, wearing a sash of scarlet silk, without any 
other ornament, Saladin might have seemed the plainest-dressed 
man in his own guard. But closer inspection discerned in his 
turban that inestimable gem which was called by the poets the 
Sea of Light; the diamond on which his signet was engraved, 
and which he wore in a ring, was probably worth all the jewels 
of the English crown; and a sapphire, which terminated the 
hilt of his canjiar, was not of much inferior value. It should 
1 Provinces of Asia Minor then under Arab rule. 


u 




290 


THE TALISMAN 


be added, that to protect him from the dust, which, in the 1 
vicinity of the Dead Sea, resembles the finest ashes, or, per¬ 
haps, out of Oriental pride, the Soldan wore a sort of veil at¬ 
tached to his turban, which partly obscured the view of his 
noble features. He rode a milk-white Arabian, which bore him 
as if conscious and proud of his noble burden. 

There was no need of farther introduction. The two heroic 
monarchs, for such they both were, threw themselves at once 
from horseback, and the troops halting and the music suddenly 
ceasing, they advanced to meet each other in profound silence, 
and, after a courteous inclination on either side, they embraced 
as brethren and equals. The pomp and display upon both sides 
attracted no farther notice: no one saw aught save Richard 
and Saladin, and they too beheld nothing but each other. 
The looks with which Richard surveyed Saladin were, however, 
more intently curious than those which the Soldan fixed upon 
him; and the Soldan also was the first to break silence. 

“ The Melech Ric is welcome to Saladin as water to this 
desert. I trust he hath no distrust of this numerous array? 
Excepting'the armed slaves of my household, those who sur¬ 
round you with eyes of wonder and of welcome are, even the 
humblest of them, the privileged nobles of my thousand tribes; 
for who that could claim a title to be present would remain at 
home when such a prince was to be seen as Richard, with the 
terrors of whose name, even on the sands of Yemen, the nurse 
stills her child and the free Arab subdues his restive steed ? ” 

“And these are all nobles of Araby?” said Richard, looking 
around on wild forms with their persons covered with haiks, 
their countenance swart with the sunbeams, their teeth as 
white as ivory, their black eyes glancing with fierce and pre¬ 
ternatural lustre from under the shade of their turbans, and 
their dress being in general simple, even to meanness. 

“They claim such rank,” said Saladin; “but, though 
numerous, they are within the conditions of the treaty, and 


THE TALISMAN 291 

bear no arms but the sabre; even the iron of their lances is 
left behind.” 

“ I fear,” muttered De Yaux in English, “ they have left 
them where they can be soon found. A most flourishing 
House of Peers, I confess, and would find Westminster Hall 
something too narrow for them.” 

“Hush, De Vaux,” said Richard, “I command thee. Noble 
Saladin,” he said, “suspicion and thou cannot exist on the 
same ground. Seest thou,” pointing to the litters—“I too 
! have brought some champions with me, though armed, perhaps, 
in breach of agreement, for bright eyes and fair features are 
| weapons which cannot be left behind.” 

The Soldan, turning to the litters, made an obeisance as 
lowly as if looking towards Mecca, and kissed the sand in 
token of respect. 

“Nay,” said Richard, “they will not fear a closer encounter, 
brother; wilt thou not ride towards their litters, and the cur¬ 
tains will be presently withdrawn.” 

“ That may Allah prohibit! ” said Saladin, “ since not an 
Arab looks on who would not think it shame to the noble 
ladies to be seen with their faces uncovered.” 

“ Thou shalt see them, then, in private, my royal brother,” 
answered Richard. 

“ To what purpose ? ” answered Saladin, mournfully. “ Thy 
last letter was, to the hopes which I had entertained, like 
water to fire; and wherefore should I again light a flame 
which may indeed consume, but cannot cheer, me? But will 
not my brother pass to the tent which his servant hath pre¬ 
pared for him? My principal black slave hath taken order 
for the reception of the princesses ; the officers of my house¬ 
hold will attend your followers; and ourself will be the cham¬ 
berlain of the royal Richard.” 

He led the way accordingly to a splendid pavilion, where 
was everything that royal luxury could devise. De Yaux, 





292 


THE TALISMAN 


who was in attendance, then removed the long riding-cloak 
which Richard wore, and he stood before Saladin in the close 
dress which showed to advantage the strength and symmetry of 
his person, while it bore a strong contrast to the flowing robes 
which disguised the thin frame of the Eastern monarch. It 
was Richard’s two-handed sword that chiefly attracted the atten¬ 
tion of the Saracen — a broad straight blade, the seemingly un¬ 
wieldy length of which extended wellnigh from the shoulder to 
the heel of the wearer. 

“Had I not,” said Saladin, “seen this brand flaming in the 
front of battle, like that of Azrael, I had scarce believed that 
human arm could wield it. Might I request to see the Melech 
Ric strike one blow with it in peace, and in pure trial of 
strength ? ” 

“Willingly, noble Saladin,” answered Richard; and looking 
around for something whereon to exercise his strength, he saw 
a steel mace, held by one of the attendants, the handle being 
of the same metal, and about an inch and a half in diameter. 
This he placed on a block of wood.' 

The anxiety of De Vaux for his master’s honor led him to 
whisper in English : “ For the blessed Virgin’s sake, beware 
what you attempt, my liege ! Your full strength is not as yet 
returned; give no triumph to the infidel.” 

“ Peace, fool! ” said Richard, standing firm on his ground, 
and casting a fierce glance around ; “ thinkest thou that I can 
fail in his presence ? ” 

The glittering broadsword, wielded by both his hands, rose 
aloft to the king’s left shoulder, circled round his head, de¬ 
scended with the sway of some terrific engine, and the bar of 
iron rolled on the ground in two pieces, as a woodsman would 
sever a sapling with a hedging-bill. 

“By the head of the Prophet, a most wonderful blow ! ” said 
the Soldan, critically and accurately examining the iron bar 
which had been cut asunder; and the blade of the sword was 


THE TALISMAN 


293 


so well tempered as to exhibit not the least token of having 
suffered by the feat it had performed. He then took the 
King’s hand, and looking on the size and muscular strength 
which it exhibited, laughed as he placed it beside his own, so 
lank and thin, so inferior in brawn and sinew. 

“Ay, look well,” said De Yaux, in English, “it will be long 
j ere your long jackanape’s fingers do such a feat with your 
fine gilded reaping-hook there.” 

“ Silence, De Yaux,” said Richard; “ by Our Lady, he under¬ 
stands or guesses thy meaning — be not so broad, I pray thee.” 

The Soldan, indeed, presently said : “ Something I would fain 
attempt, though wherefore should the "weak show their inferior¬ 
ity in presence of the strong? Yet, each land hath its own 
exercises, and this may be new to the Melech Ric.” So saying, 
he took from the floor a cushion of silk and down, and placed 
it upright on one end. “ Can thy weapon, my brother, sever 
that cushion ? ” he said to King Richard. 

“No, surely,” replied the King ; “no sword on earth, were it 
the Excalibar of King Arthur, can cut that which opposes no 
steady resistance to the blow.” 

“ Mark, then,” said Saladin ; and, tucking up the sleeve of 
his gown, showed his arm, thin indeed and spare, but which 
constant exercise had hardened into a mass consisting of nought 
but bone, brawn, and sinew. He unsheathed his scimitar, a 
curved and narrow blade, which glittered not like the swords 
of the Franks, but was, on the contrary, of a dull blue color, 
marked with ten millions of meandering lines, which showed 
how anxiously the metal had been welded by the armorer. 
Wielding this weapon, apparently so inefficient when compared 
to that of Richard, the Soldan stood resting his weight upon 
his left foot, which was slightly advanced; he balanced him¬ 
self a little as if to steady his aim, then stepping at once for¬ 
ward, drew the scimitar across the cushion, applying the edge 
so dexterously, and with so little apparent effort, that the 



294 


THE TALISMAN 

cushion seemed rather to fall asunder than to be divided by 
violence. 

“ It is a juggler’s trick,” said De Yaux, darting forward and 
snatching up the portion of the cushion which had been cut 
off, as if to assure himself of the reality of the feat; “ there is 
gramarye 1 in this.” 

The Soldan seemed to comprehend him, for he undid the 
sort of veil which he had hitherto worn, laid it double along 
the edge of his sabre, extended the weapon edgeways in the 
air, and drawing it suddenly through the veil, although it 
hung on the blade entirely loose, severed that also into two 
parts, which floated to different sides of the tent, equally dis¬ 
playing the extreme temper and sharpness of the weapon and: 
the exquisite dexterity of him who used it. 

“Now, in good faith, my brother,” said Richard, “thou art 
even matchless at the trick of the sword, and right perilous 
were it to meet thee. Still, however, I put some faith in a 
downright English blow, and what we cannot do by sleight we 
eke out by strength. Nevertheless, in truth thou art as expert 
in inflicting wounds as my sage Hakim in curing them. I trust 
I shall see the learned leech; I have much to thank him for, 
and had brought kerne small present.” 

As he spoke, Saladin exchanged his turban for a Tartar cap. 
He had no sooner done so, than De Vaux opened at once his 
extended mouth and his large round eyes, and Richard gazed 
with scarce less astonishment, while the Soldan spoke in a 
grave and altered voice: “ The sick man, sayeth the poet, 
while he is yet infirm, knoweth the physician by his step ; but 
when he is recovered, he knoweth not even his face when he 
looks upon him.” 

“ A miracle ! — a miracle ! ” exclaimed Richard. 

“ Of Mahound’s working, doubtless,” said Thomas de Yaux. 

“That I should lose my learned Hakim,” said Richard, 
1 Gramarye: magic. 


THE TALISM iH 295 

' “ merely by absence of his cap and robe, and that I should find 
him again in my royal brother Saladin ! ” 

^ “ Such is oft the fashion of the world,” answered the Sol- 

1 dan : “ the tattered robe makes not always the dervise.” 
s “And it was through thy intercession,” said Richard, “ that 
yonder Knight of the Leopard was saved from death; and by 
‘ thy artifice that he revisited my camp in disguise ? ” 
l “Even so,” replied Saladin; “I was physician enough to 
j know that, unless the wounds of his bleeding honor were 
[ stanched, the days of his life must be few. His disguise was 
J more easily penetrated than I had expected from the success 
' of my own.” 

“ An accident,” said King Richard (probably alluding to the 
circumstance of his applying his lips to the wound of the 
: supposed Nubian), “ let me first know that his skin was arti- 
; ficially discolored ; and that hint once taken, detection became 
' easy, for his form and person are not to be forgotten. I con- 
: fidently expect that he will do battle on the morrow.” 

“ He is full in preparation and high in hope,” said the 
Soldan. “ I have furnished him with weapons and horse, 
thinking nobly of him from what I have seen under various 
disguises.” 

“Knows he now,” said Richard, “to whom he lies under 
obligation ? ” 

“ He doth,” replied the Saracen ; “ I was obliged to confess 
my person when I unfolded my purpose.” 

“ And confessed he aught to you 1 ” said the King of England. 

“Nothing explicit,” replied the Soldan; “but from much 
that passed between us, I conceive his love is too highly 
placed to be happy in its issue.” 

“And thou knowest that his daring and insolent passion 
crossed thine, own wishes ? ” said Richard. 

“I might guess so much,” said Saladin; “but his passion 
had existed ere my wishes had been formed, and, I must now 


296 


THE TALISMAN 


add, is likely to survive them. I cannot, in honor, revenge me 
for my disappointment on him who had no hand in it. Or, if 
this high-born dame loved him better than myself, who can say 
that she did not justice to a knight, of her own religion, who is 
full of nobleness 1 ” 

“Yet of too mean lineage to mix with the blood of Plantage- 
net,” said Richard, haughtily. 

“ Such may be your maxims in Frangistan,” replied the Sol- 
dan. “Our poets of the Eastern countries say, that a valiant 
camel-driver is worthy to kiss the lip of a fair queen, when a 
cowardly prince is not worthy to salute the hem of her garment. 
But with your permission, noble brother, I must take leave of 
thee for the present, to receive the Duke of Austria and yonder 
Nazarene knight, much less worthy of hospitality, but who 
must yet be suitably entreated, not for their sakes, but for 
mine own honor, for what saith the sage Lokman: ‘ Say not 
that the food is lost unto thee which is given to the stranger; 
for if his body be strengthened and fattened therewithal, 
not less is thine own worship and good name cherished and 
augmented ’ 1 ” 

The Saracen monarch departed from King Richard’s tent, 
and having indicated to him, rather with signs than with 
speech, where the pavilion of the Queen and her attendants 
was pitched, he went to receive the Marquis of Montserrat 
and his attendants, for whom, with less good-will, but with 
equal splendor, the magnificent Soldan had provided accom¬ 
modations. The most ample refreshments, both in the Orien¬ 
tal and after the European fashion, were spread before the royal 
and princely guests of Saladin, each in their own separate pa¬ 
vilion ; and so attentive was the Soldan to the habits and taste 
of his visitors, that Grecian slaves were stationed to present 
them with the goblet, which is the abomination of the sect of 
Mohammed. Ere Richard had finished his meal, the ancient ! 
omrah , who had brought the Soldan’s letter to the Christian 





THE TALISMAN 


297 




j camp, entered with a plan of the ceremonial to be observed on 
the succeeding day of combat. Richard, who knew the taste 
j of his old acquaintance, invited him to pledge him in a flagon 
of wine of Schiraz ; but Abdallah gave him to understand, with 
a rueful aspect, that self-denial, in the present circumstances, 

: was a matter in which his life was concerned j for that Saladjn, 
tolerant in many respects, both observed and enforced by high 
penalties the laws of the Prophet. 

“Nay, then,” said Richard, “if he loves not wine, that 
lightener of the human heart, his conversion is not to be hoped 
j for, and the prediction of the mad priest of Engaddi goes like 
l chaff down the wind.” 

The King then addressed himself to settle the articles of com- 
i bat, which cost a considerable time, as it was necessary on some 
points to consult with the opposite parties, as well as with the 
Soldan. 

They were at length finally agreed upon, and adjusted by a 
protocol in French and in Arabian, which was subscribed by 
Saladin as umpire of the field, and by Richard and Leopold as 
guarantees for the two combatants. As the omrah took his 
final leave of King Richard for the evening, De Yaux entered. 

“ The good knight,” he said, “ who is to do battle to-morrow, 
requests to know whether he may not to-night pay duty to his 
royal godfather ? ” 

“ Hast thou seen him, De Vaux 1 ” said the King, smiling; 
“ and didst thou know an ancient acquaintance ? ” 

“By our Lady of Lanercost,” answered De Yaux, “there 
are so many surprises and changes in this land, that my poor 
brain turns. I scarce knew Sir Kenneth of Scotland till his 
good hound, that had been for a short while under my care, 
came and fawned on me; and even then I only knew the tyke 
by the depth of his chest, the roundness of his foot, and his 
manner of baying; for the poor gaze-hound was painted like 
any Venetian courtezan.” 


298 


THE TALISMAN 


“Thou art better skilled in brutes than men, De Vaux,” 
said the King. 

“I will not deny,” said De Vaux, “I have found them oft- 
times the honester animals. Also, your Grace is pleased to 
term me sometimes a brute myself; besides that I serve the 
Lion, whom all men acknowledge the king of brutes.” 

“By St. George, there thou brokest thy lance fairly on my 
brow,” said the King. “ I have ever said thou hast a sort of 
wit, De Vaux — marry, one must strike thee with a sledge¬ 
hammer ere it can be made to sparkle. But to the present 
gear; is the good knight well armed and equipped 1 ” 

“Fully, my liege, and nobly,” answered De Vaux; “I know 
the armor well: it is that which the Venetian commissary 
offered your Highness, just ere you became ill, for five hundred 
byzants.” 

“ And he hath sold it to the infidel Soldan, I warrant me, 
for a few ducats more, and present payment. These Venetians 
vrould sell the Sepulchre itself! ” 

“The armor will never be borne in a nobler cause,” said 
De Vaux. 

“ Thanks to the nobleness of the Saracen,” said the King, 
“not to the avarice of the Venetians.” 

“I would to God your Grace would be more cautious,” said 
the anxious De Vaux. “ Here are we deserted by all our allies, 
for points of offence given to one or another; we cannot hope 
to prosper upon the land, and we have only to quarrel with the 
amphibious republic to lose the means of retreat by sea ! ” 

“ I will take care,” said Richard, impatiently; “ but school 
me no more. Tell me rather, for it is of interest, hath the 
knight a confessor ? ” 

“He hath,” answered De Vaux: “the hermit of Engaddi, 
who erst did him that office when preparing for death, attends 
him on the present occasion, the fame of the duel having brought 
him hither.” 


THE TALISMAN 


299 


“ ’Tis well,” said Richard; “ and now for the knight’s re¬ 
quest. Say to him, Richard will receive him when the dis¬ 
charge of his devoir beside the Diamond of the Desert shall 
have atoned for his fault beside the Mount of St. George; and 
as thou passest through the camp, let the Queen know I will 
visit her pavilion; and tell Blondel to meet me there.” 

De Vaux departed, and in about an hour afterwards, Rich¬ 
ard, wrapping his mantle around him, and taking his ghittern 1 
I in his hand, walked in the direction of the Queen’s pavilion. 

Several Arabs passed him, but always with averted heads and 
I l°°ks fixed upon the earth, though he could observe that all 
; gazed earnestly after him when he was past. This led him 
justly to conjecture that his person was known to them, but 
that either the Soldan’s commands or their own Oriental polite-* 
ness forbade them to seem to notice a sovereign who desired to 
remain incognito. 2 

When the King reached the pavilion of his Queen, he found 
it guarded by those unhappy officials whom Eastern jealousy 
places around the zenana. Blondel was walking before the 
door, and touched his rote from time to time in a manner 
which made the Africans show their ivory teeth, and bear 
burden with their strange gestures and shrill unnatural voices. 

“ What art thou after with this herd of black cattle, Blon- 
del?” said the King. “Wherefore goest thou not into the 
tent ? ” 

“Because my trade can neither spare the head nor the 
fingers,” said Blondel; “and these honest blackamoors threat¬ 
ened to cut me joint from joint if I pressed forward.” 

“ Well, enter with me,” said the King, “ and I will be thy 
safeguard.” 

The blacks accordingly lowered pikes and swords to King 
Richard, and bent their eyes on the ground, as if unworthy to 

1 Ghittern: an instrument resembling the guitar. 

2 Incognito: unknown. 


300 


THE TALISMAN 


look upon him. In the interior of the pavilion, they found 
Thomas de Vaux in attendance on the Queen. While Beren- 
garia welcomed Blondel, King Richard spoke for some time, 
secretly and apart with his fair kinswoman. 

At length, “ Are we still foes, my fair Edith ? ” he said, in a 
whisper. 

“No, my liege,” said Edith, in a voice just so low as not to 
interrupt the music : “ none can bear enmity against King 
Richard, when he deigns to show himself as he really is, 
generous and noble, as well as valiant and honorable.” So 
saying, she extended her hand to him. 

The King kissed it in token of reconciliation, and then pro¬ 
ceeded. “ You think, my sweet cousin, that my anger in this 
matter was feigned; but you are deceived. The punishment 
I inflicted upon this knight was just; for he had betrayed — 
no matter for how tempting a bribe, fair cousin — the trust j 
committed to him. But I rejoice, perchance as much as you, 1 
that to-morrow gives him a chance to win the field, and throw! 
back the stain which for a time clung to him upon the actual j 
thief and traitor. No ! future times may blame Richard for im¬ 
petuous folly; but they shall say that, in rendering judgment, j 
he was just when he should, and merciful when he could.” 

“ Laud not thyself, cousin King,” said Edith. “ They may j 
call thy justice cruelty, thy mercy caprice.” 

“ And do not thou pride thyself,” said the King, “ as if thy 
knight, who hath not yet buckled on his armor, were unbelt¬ 
ing it in triumph. Conrade of Montserrat is held a good 
lance. What if the Scot should lose the day ? ” 

“ It is impossible ! ” said Edith, firmly. “ My own eyes 
saw yonder Conrade tremble and change color, like a base 
thief. He is guilty, and the trial by combat is an appeal to 
the justice of God. I myself, in such a cause, would en¬ 
counter him without fear.” 

“ By the mass, I think thou wouldst, wench,” said the 



THE TALISMAN 


301 


I King, “ and beat him to boot; for there never breathed a 
• truer Plantagenet than thou.” 

i He paused, and added in a very serious tone: “ See that 
thou continue to remember what is due to thy birth.” 
i “ What means that advice, so seriously given at this mo¬ 
ment ? ” said Edith. “ Am I of such light nature as to forget 
i my name — my condition ? ” 

; “I will speak plainly, Edith,” answered the King, “and as 
to a friend: What will this knight be to you, should he come 
i off victor from yonder lists ? ” 

“ To me ? ” said Edith, blushing deep with shame and dis- 
l pleasure. “ What can he be to me more than an honored 
knight, worthy of such grace as Queen Berengaria might con¬ 
fer on him, had he selected her for his lady, instead of a more 
unworthy choice ? The meanest knight may devote himself to 
the service of an empress, but the glory of his choice,” she 
said proudly, “must be his reward.” 

“ Yet he hath served and suffered much for you,” said the 
King. 

“ I have paid his services with honor and applause, and 
his sufferings with tears,” answered Edith. “ Had he desired 
other reward, he would have done wisely to have bestowed his 
affections within his own degree.” 

“You would not then wear the bloody night-gear for his 
sake ? ” said King Richard. 

“No more,” answered Edith, “than I would have required 
him to expose his life by an action in which there was more 
madness than honor.” 

“ Maidens talk ever thus,” said the King; “ but when the 
favored lover presses his suit, she says, with a sigh, her stars 
had decreed otherwise.” 

“Your Grace has now, for the second time, threatened me 
I with the influence of my horoscope,” Edith replied, with dig¬ 
nity. “ Trust me, my liege, whatever be the power of the 



302 


THE TALISMAN 




stars, your poor kinswoman will never wed either infidel or 
obscure adventurer. Permit me, that I listen to the musfe 
of Blondel, for the tone of your royal admonitions is scarce so, 
grateful to the ear.” 

The conclusion of the evening offered nothing worthy of 
notice. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


Heard ye the din of battle bray, 

Lance to lance, and horse to horse ? 

Gray. 

It had been agreed, on account of the heat of the climate, 
that the judicial combat, which was the cause of the present 
assemblage of various nations at the Diamond of the Desert, 
should take place at one hour after sunrise. The wide lists, 
which had been constructed under the inspection of the 
Knight of the Leopard, inclosed a space of hard sand, which 
was one hundred and twenty yards long by forty in width. 
They extended in length from north to south, so as to give 
both parties the equal advantage of the rising sun. Salad in’s 
royal seat was erected on the western side of the inclosure, 
just in the centre, where the combatants were expected to 
meet in mid-encounter. Opposed to this was a gallery with 
closed casements, so contrived that the ladies, for whose ac¬ 
commodation it was erected, might see the fight without being 
themselves exposed to view. At either extremity of the lists 
was a barrier, which could be opened or shut at pleasure. 
Thrones had been also erected, but the Archduke, perceiving 
that his was lower than King Richard’s, refused to occupy it; 
and Coeur-de-Lion, who would have submitted to much ere 
any formality should have interfered with the combat, readily 
agreed that the sponsors, as they were called, should remain 




THE TALISMAN 


303 


on horseback (luring the fight. At one extremity of the lists 
were placed the followers of Richard, and opposed to them 
were those who accompanied the defender, Conrade. Around 
the throne destined for the Soldan were ranged his splendid 
Georgian Guards, and the rest of the inclosure was occupied 
by Christian and Mohammedan spectators. 

Long before daybreak, the lists were surrounded by even 
a larger number of Saracens than Richard had seen on the 
preceding evening. When the first ray of the sun’s glorious 
orb arose above the desert, the sonorous call, “To prayer — 
to prayer!” was poured forth by the Soldan himself, and 
answered by others, whose rank and zeal entitled them to act 
as muezzins. It was a striking spectacle to see them all sink 
to earth, for the purpose of repeating their devotions, with their 
faces turned to Mecca. But when they arose from the ground, 
the sun’s rays, now strengthening fast, seemed to confirm the 
Lord of Gilsland’s conjecture of the night before. They were 
flashed back from many a spear-head, for the pointless lances 
of the preceding day were certainly no longer such. De Vaux 
pointed it out to his master, who answered with impatience, 
that he had perfect confidence in the good faith of the Soldan; 
but if De Vaux was afraid of his bulky body, he might retire. 

Soon after this the noise of timbrels was heard, at the 
sound of which the whole Saracen cavaliers threw themselves 
from their horses, and prostrated themselves, as if for a second 
morning prayer. This was to give an opportunity to the 
Queen, with Edith and her attendants, to pass from the 
pavilion to the gallery intended for them. Fifty guards of 
Saladin’s seraglio 1 escorted them, with naked sabres, whose 
orders were, to cut to pieces whomsoever, were he prince or 
peasant, should venture to gaze on the ladies as they passed, 
or even presume to raise his head until the cessation of the 

i Seraglio : the dwelling place of the women belonging to the harem 
of an Oriental. 


304 


THE TALISMAN 


music should make all men aware that they were lodged in 
their gallery, not to be gazed on by the curious eye. 

This superstitious observance of Oriental reverence to the 
fair sex called forth from Queen Berengaria some criticisms 
very unfavorable to Saladin and his country. But their den, 
as the royal fair called it, being securely closed and guarded 
by their sable attendants, she was under the necessity of con¬ 
tenting herself with seeing, and laying aside for the present the 
still more exquisite pleasure of being seen. 

Meantime the sponsors of both champions went, as was their 
duty, to see that they were duly armed, and prepared for com¬ 
bat. The Archduke of Austria was in no hurry to perform 
this part of the ceremony, having had rather an unusually 
severe debauch upon wine of Schiraz the preceding evening. 
But the Grand Master of the Temple, more deeply concerned 
in the event of the combat, was early before the tent of Con- 
rade of Montserrat. To his great surprise, the attendants 
refused him admittance. 

“ Do you not know me, ye knaves ? ” said the Grand Master, 
in great anger. 

“We do, most valiant and reverend,” answered Conrade’s 
squire; “ but even you may not at present enter : the Marquis 
is about to confess himself.” 

“ Confess himself! ” exclaimed the Templar, in a tone where 
alarm mingled with surprise and scorn : “ and to whom, I pray 
thee?” 

“ My master bid me be secret,” said the squire; on which 
the Grand Master pushed past him, and entered the tent 
almost by force. 

The Marquis of Montserrat was kneeling at the feet of the 
hermit of Engaddi, and in the act of beginning his confession. 

“ What means this, Marquis ? ” said the Grand Master; “ up, 
for shame — or, if you must needs confess, am not I here ? ” 

“ I have confessed to you too often already,” replied Con- 


THE TALISMAN 


305 


rade, with a pale cheek and a faltering voice. “ For God’s 
sake, Grand Master, begone, and let me unfold my conscience 
to this holy man.” 

“ In what is he holier than I am ? ” said the Grand Master. 
“Hermit — prophet — madman, say, if thou darest, in what 
thou excellest me?” 

“Bold and bad man,” replied the hermit, “know that I am 
like the latticed window, and the divine light passes through 
to avail others, though, alas ! it helpeth not me. Thou art 
like the iron stanchions, which neither receive light themselves 
nor communicate it to any one.” 

“Prate not to me, but depart from this tent,” said the 
Grand Master; “the Marquis shall not confess this morning, 
unless it be to me, for I part not from his side.” 

“Is this your pleasure?” said the hermit to Conrade ; “for 
think not I will obey that proud man, if you continue to desire 
my assistance.” 

“ Alas,” said Conrade, irresolutely, “ what would you have 
me say ? Farewell for a while; we will speak anon.” 

“Oh, procrastination,” exclaimed the hermit, “thou art a 
soul-murderer! Unhappy man, farewell, not for a while, but 
until we shall both meet — no matter wdiere. And for thee,” 
he added, turning to the Grand Master, “ Tremble ! ” 

“ Tremble ! ” replied the Templar, contemptuously, “ I can¬ 
not if I would.” 

The hermit heard not his answer, having left the tent. 

“Come, to this gear hastily,” said the Grand Master, “since 
thou wilt needs go through the foolery. Hark thee, I think 
I know most of thy frailties by heart, so we may omit the 
detail, which may be somewhat a long one, and begin with the 
absolution. What signifies counting the spots of dirt that we 
are about to wash from our hands ? ” t 

“Knowing what thou art thyself,” said Conrade, “it is 
blasphemous to speak of pardoning another. 


x 


306 


THE TALISMAN 


“ That is not according to the canon, Lord Marquis,” said 
the Templar: “ thou art more scrupulous than orthodox. The 
absolution of the wicked priest is as effectual as if he were 
himself a saint; otherwise, God help the poor penitent! What 
wounded man inquires whether the surgeon that tents his 
gashes have clean hands or no 1 Come, shall we to this toy ? ” 

“No,” said Conrade, “I will rather die unconfessed than 
mock the sacrament.” 

“ Come, noble Marquis,” said the Templar, “ rouse up your 
courage, and speak not thus. In an hour’s time thou shalt 
stand victorious in the lists, or confess thee in thy helmet like 
a valiant knight.” 

“Alas, Grand Master,” answered Conrade, “all augurs ill 
for this affair. The strange discovery by the instinct of a dog, 
the revival of this Scottish knight, who comes into the lists like 
a spectre — all betokens evil.” 

“Pshaw,” said the Templar, “I have seen thee bend thy 
lance boldly against him in sport, and with equal chance of 
success; think thou art but in a tournament, and who bears 
him better in the tilt-yard than thou? Come, squires and 
armorers, your master must be accoutred for the field.” 

The attendants entered accordingly, and began to arm the 
Marquis. 

“ What morning is without ? ” said Conrade. 

“ The sun rises dimly,” answered a squire. 

“Thou seest, Grand Master,” said Conrade, “nought smiles 
on us.” 

“ Thou wilt fight the more coolly, my son,” answered the 
Templar; “thank Heaven, that hath tempered the sun of 
Palestine to suit thine occasion.” 

Thus jested the Grand Master; but his jests had lost their 
influence on the harassed mind of the Marquis, and, notwith¬ 
standing his attempts to seem gay, his gloom communicated itself 
to the Templar. 


THE TALISMAN 


307 


“ This craven,” he thought, “ will lose the day in pure faint¬ 
ness and cowardice of heart, which he calls tender conscience. 
I, whom visions and auguries shake not — who am firm in my 
purpose as the living rock — I should have fought the combat 
myself. Would to God the Scot may strike him dead on the 
(spot; it w r ere next best to his winning the victory. But come 
what will, he must have no other confessor than myself; our 
(sins are too much in common, and he might confess my share 
with his own.” 

While these thoughts passed through his mind, he continued 
to assist the Marquis in arming, but it was in silence. 

The hour at length arrived, the trumpets sounded, the 
knights rode into the lists armed at all points, and mounted 
like men who were' to do battle for a kingdom’s honor. They 
wore their visors up, and riding around the lists three times, 
showed themselves to the spectators. Both were goodly per¬ 
sons, and both had noble countenances. But there was an air 
of manly confidence on the brow of the Scot—a radiancy of 
hope, which amounted even to cheerfulness, while, although 
pride and effort had recalled much of Conrade’s natural courage, 
there lowered still on his brow a cloud of ominous despondence. 
Even his steed seemed to tread less lightly and blithely to the 
trumpet-sound than the noble Arab which was bestrode by Sir 
Kenneth ; and the spruchsprecher shook his head "while he ob¬ 
served that, while the challenger rode around the lists in the 
course of the sun, that is, from right to left, the defender made 
the same circuit widdersins , that is, from left to right, which 
is in most countries held ominous. 

A temporary altar was erected just beneath the gallery oc¬ 
cupied by the Queen, and beside it stood the hermit in the dress 
of his order as a Carmelite friar. Other churchmen were also 
present. To this altar the challenger and defender were suc¬ 
cessively brought forward, conducted by their respective spon¬ 
sors. Dismounting before it, each knight avouched the justice 




308 


THE TALISMAN 


of his cause by a solemn oath on the Evangelists, and prayed' 
that his success might be according to the truth or falsehood of j 
what he then swore. They also made oath that they came to 
do battle in knightly guise, and with the usual weapons, dis¬ 
claiming the use of spells, charms, or magical devices, to incline j 
victory to their side. The challenger pronounced his vow with 
a firm and manly voice, and a bold and cheerful countenance. I 
When the ceremony was finished, the Scottish knight looked j 
at the gallery, and bent his head to the earth, as if in honor j 
of those invisible beauties which were inclosed within; then, j 
loaded with armor as he was, sprung to the saddle without the' 
use of the stirrup, and made his courser carry him in a succes-1 
sion of caracoles to his station at the eastern extremity of the j 
lists. Conrade also presented himself before the altar with 
boldness enough ; but his voice, as he took the oath, sounded 
hollow, as if drowned in his helmet. The lips with which he 
appealed to Heaven to adjudge victory to the just quarrel grew 
white as they uttered the impious mockery. As he turned to : 
remount his horse, the Grand Master approached him closer, as 
it to rectify something about the sitting of his gorget and 
whispered: “ Coward and fool! recall thy senses, and do me I 
this battle bravely, else, by Heaven, shouldst thou escape him 
thou escapest not me ! ” 

The savage tone in which this was whispered perhaps com¬ 
pleted the confusion of the Marquis’s nerves, for he stumbled 
as he made to horse ; and though he recovered his feet, sprung 
to the saddle with his usual agility, and displayed his address 
m horsemanship as he assumed his position opposite to the 
challengers, yet the accident did not escape those who were on 
the watch for omens which might predict the fate of the day. 

The priests, after a solemn prayer that God would show the 
rightful quarrel, departed from the lists. The trumpets of the 
challenger then rung a flourish, and a herald-at-arms pro¬ 
claimed at the eastern end of the lists: “ Here stands a o- 00 d 


THE TALISMAN 


309 


knight, Sir Kenneth of Scotland, champion for the royal King 
Richard of England, who accuseth Conrade Marquis of Montser¬ 
rat of foul treason and dishonor done to the said king.” 

When the words Kenneth of Scotland announced the name 
and character of the champion, hitherto scarce generally known, 
a loud and cheerful acclaim burst from the followers of King 
Richard, and hardly, notwithstanding repeated commands of 
silence, suffered the reply of the defendant to be heard. He, 
of course, avouched his innocence, and offered his body for 
battle. The esquires of the combatants now approached, and. 
delivered to each his shield and lance, assisting to hang the 
former around his neck, that his two hands might remain free, 
one for the management of the bridle, the other to direct the 
lance. 

The shield of the Scot displayed his old bearing, the leopard, 
but with the addition of a collar and broken chain, in allusion 
to his late captivity. The shield of the Marquis bore, in refer¬ 
ence to his title, a serrated and rocky mountain. Each shook 
his lance aloft, as if to ascertain the weight and toughness of 
the unwieldy weapon, and then laid it in the rest. The sponsors, 
heralds, and squires now retired to the barriers, and the com¬ 
batants sat opposite to each other, face to face, with couched 
lance and closed visor, the human form so completely inclosed 
that they looked more like statues of molten iron than beings 
of flesh and blood. The silence of suspense was now general: 
men breathed thicker, and their very souls seemed seated in 
their eyes, while not a sound was to be heard save the snorting 
and pawing of the good steeds, who, sensible of what was about 
to happen, were impatient to dash into career. They stood 
thus for perhaps three minutes, when, at a signal given by 
the Soldan, an hundred instruments rent the air with their 
brazen clamors, and each champion striking his horse with the 
spurs and slacking the rein, the horses started into full gallop, 
and the knights met in mid-space with a shock like a thunder- 


310 


THE TALISMAN 


bolt. The victory was not in doubt — no, not one moment. 
Conrade, indeed, showed himself a practised warrior; for he 
struck his antagonist knightly in the midst of his shield, bear¬ 
ing his lance so straight and true that it shivered into splinters 
from the steel spear-head up to the very gauntlet. The horse 
of Sir Kenneth recoiled two or three yards and fell on his 
haunches, but the rider easily raised him with hand and rein. 
But for Conrade there was no recovery. Sir Kenneth’s lance 
had pierced through the shield, through a plated corslet of 
Milan steel, through a “ secret,” or coat of linked mail, worn 
beneath the corslet, had wounded him deep in the bosom, and 
borne him from his saddle, leaving the truncheon of the lance 
fixed in his wound. The sponsors, heralds, and Saladin him¬ 
self, descending from his throne, crowded around the wounded 
man; while Sir Kenneth, who had drawn his sword ere yet he 
discovered his antagonist was totally helpless, now commanded 
him to avow his guilt. The helmet was hastily unclosed, and 
the wounded man, gazing wildly on the skies, replied: “ What 
would you more? Cod hath decided justly: I am guilty; but 
there are worse traitors in the camp than I. In pity to my 
soul, let me have a confessor ! ” 

He revived as he uttered these words. 

“ The talisman — the powerful remedy, royal brother! ” 
said King Richard to Saladin. 

“The traitor,” answered the Soldan, “is more fit to be 
dragged from the lists to the gallows by the heels than to 
profit by its virtues; and some such fate is in his look,” he 
added, after gazing fixedly upon the wounded man; “for, 
though his wound may be cured, yet Azrael’s seal is on the 
wretch’s brow.” 

“Nevertheless,” said Richard, “I pray you do for him what 
you may, that he may at least have time for confession. Slay not 
soul and body. To him one half-hour of time may be worth more, 
by ten thousandfold, than the life of the oldest patriarch.” 


THE TALISMAN 311 

“My royal brother’s wish shall be obeyed,” said Saladin. 
‘Slaves, bear this wounded man to our tent.” 
j “Do not so,” said the Templar, who had hitherto stood 
gloomily looking on in silence. “ The royal Duke of Austria 
E„nd myself will not permit this unhappy Christian prince to 
be delivered over to the Saracens, that they may try their 
i pells upon him. We are his sponsors, and demand that he 
lie assigned to our care.” 

“ That is, you refuse the certain means offered to recover 
urn 1 ” said Richard. 

“Not so,” said the Grand Master, recollecting himself. 
‘If the Soldan useth lawful medicines, he may attend the 
liatient in my tent.” 

4 “Do so, I pray thee, good brother,” said Richard to Saladin, 

■ though the permission be ungraciously yielded. But now to 
, more glorious work. Sound, trumpets — shout, England — 
1 n honor of England’s champion ! ” 

1 Drum, clarion, trumpet, and cymbal rung forth at once, 

1 nd the deep and regular shout which for ages has been the 
>’ English acclamation sounded amidst the shrill and irregular 
ells of the Arabs, like the diapason of the organ amid the 
owling of a storm. There was silence at length. 

“Brave Knight of the Leopard,” resumed Coeur-de-lion, 
thou hast shown that the Ethiopian may change his skin, 
6 ad the leopard his spots, though clerks quote Scripture for 
°le impossibility. Yet I have more to say to you when I have 
e inducted you to the presence of the ladies, the best judges 
’iid best rewarders of deeds of chivalry.” 
e The Knight of the Leopard bowed assent. 

“And thou, princely Saladin, wilt also attend them. I 
Promise thee our Queen will not think herself welcome, if she 
jt cks the opportunity to thank her royal host for her most 
-ifincely reception.” 

Saladin bent his head gracefully, but declined the invitation. 


312 


THE TALISMAN 


“ I must attend the wounded man,” he said. “ The lee 
leaves not his patient more than the champion the lists, evl 
if he be summoned to. a bower like those of Paradise. A| 
farther, royal Richard, know that the blood of the East flot 
not so temperately in the presence of beauty as that of yd 
land. What saith the Book itself: ‘ Her eye is as the edge j] 
the sword of the Prophet, *who shall look upon it V He tl| 
would not be burnt avoideth to tread on hot embers; w 
men spread not the flax before a bickering torch. ‘ He,’ saii 
the sage, ‘ who hath forfeited a treasure, doth not wisely ji 
turn back his head to gaze at it.’ ” L 

Richard, it may be believed, respected the motives of doi 
cacy which flowed from manners so different from his ovi 
and urged his request no further. | 

“ At noon,” said the Soldan, as he departed, “ I trust In 
will all accept a collation under the black camel-skin tent of jx 
chief of Kurdistan.” L 

The same invitation was circulated among the Christian 
comprehending' all those of sufficient importance to be admit! 
to sit at a feast made for princes. L 

“Hark!” said Richard, “the timbrels announce that <je! 
Queen and her attendants are leaving their gallery; and sin 
the turbans sink on the ground, as if struck down by a destr e 
ing angel. All lie prostrate, as if the glance of an Arab’s 
could sully the lustre of a lady’s cheek ! Come, we will to i' 
pavilion, and lead our conqueror thither in triumph. Hotio 
pity that noble Soldan, who knows but of love as it is kno ( 
to those of inferior nature ! ” L 

Blondel tuned his harp to its boldest measure, to welco is 
the introduction of the victor into the pavilion of Qu< j 
Berengaria. He entered, supported on either side by j 
sponsors, Richard and Thomas Longsword, and knelt gracefi e 
down before the Queen, though more than half the homage t \\ 
silently rendered to Edith, who sat on her right hand. $ 





THE TALISMAN 


313 


“Unarm him, my mistresses,” said the King, whose delight 
i-rns in the execution of such chivalrous usages. “ Let beauty 
onor chivalry ! Undo his spurs, Berengaria; Queen though 
hou be, thou owest him what marks of favor thou canst give, 
inlace his helmet, Edith — by this hand thou shalt, wert thou 
he proudest Plantagenet of the line, and he the poorest kniffht 
in earth! ” 

Both ladies obeyed the royal commands — Berengaria with 
ustling assiduity, as anxious to gratify her husband’s humor, 
nd Edith blushing and growing pale alternately, as slowly and 
wkwardly she undid, with Longsword’s assistance, the fasten- 
3kgs which secured the helmet to the gorget, 
r “And what expect you from beneath this iron shell?” said 
ichard, as the removal of the casque gave to view the noble 
ountenance of Sir Kenneth, his face glowing with recent 
: certion, and not less so with present emotion. “ What think 
5 of him, gallants and beauties ? ” said Bichard. « Doth he 
i semble an Ethiopian slave, or doth he present the face of an 
)scure and nameless adventurer? No, by my good sword! 
ere terminate his various disguises. He hath knelt down 
sfore you unknown save by his worth; he arises equally dis- 
lguished by birth and by fortune. The adventurous knight, 
enneth, arises David Earl of Huntingdon, Prince Royal of 
:otland! ” 

There was a general exclamation of surprise, and Edith 
opped from her hand the helmet which she had just received. 
“Yes, my masters,” said the King, “it is even so. Ye 
ow how Scotland deceived us when she proposed to send 
is valiant earl, with a bold company of her best and noblest, 
aid our arms in this conquest of Palestine, but failed to com- 
r with her engagements. This noble youth, under whom 
3 Scottish Crusaders were to have been arrayed, thought 
il scorn that his arm should be withheld from the holy 
rfare, and joined us at Sicily with a small train of devoted 



314 


THE TALISMAN 


and faithful attendants, which was augmented by many of h 1 
countrymen to whom the rank of their leader was unknown 
The confidants of the royal prince had all, save one olj 
follower, fallen by death, when his secret, but too well kep 
had nearly occasioned my cutting off, in a Scottish adventure 
one of the noblest hopes of Europe. Why did you not me: 
tion your rank, noble Huntingdon, when endangered by n 
hasty and passionate sentence? Was it that you thoug] 
Richard capable of abusing the advantage I possessed over tl 
heir of a king whom I have so often found hostile ? ” 

“I did you not that injustice, royal Richard,” answered tl 
Earl of Huntingdon; “ but my pride brooked not that 
should avow myself Prince of Scotland in order to save my lil 
endangered for default of loyalty. And, moreover, I had ma< 
my vow to preserve my rank unknown till the Crusade shou 
be accomplished ; nor did I mention it save in articulo mort\ 
and under the seal of confession, to yonder reverend hermii 

“It was the knowledge of that secret, then, which ma 
the good man so urgent with me to recall my severe sentence 
said Richard. “Well did he say that, had this good knig 
fallen by my mandate, I should have wished the deed undo 
though it had cost me a limb. A limb! I should ha 
wished it undone had it cost me my life, since the woi 
would have said that Richard had abused the condition 
which the heir of Scotland had placed himself, by his cor ,j 
dence in his generosity.” 

“Yet, may we know of your Grace by what strange a 
happy chance this riddle was at length read ? ” said the Que 
Berengaria. 

“ Letters were brought to us from England,” said the Kii j 
“ in which we learnt, among other unpleasant news, that 1 j 
King of Scotland had seized upon three of our nobles, wl < 
on a pilgrimage to St. Ninian, and alleged as a cause that 
heir, being supposed to be fighting in the ranks of the T 




THE TALISMAN 


315 


1 onic knights against the heathen of Borussia, was, in fact, in 
™'ur camp and in our power; and, therefore, William proposed 
ol, o hold these nobles as hostages for his safety. This gave 
P*oe the first light on the real rank of the Knight of the 
® jeopard, and my suspicions were confirmed by De Yaux, who, 
ei »n his return from Ascalon, brought back with him the Earl 
“‘f Huntingdon’s sole attendant, a thick-skulled slave, who 
' iad gone thirty miles to unfold to De Yaux a secret he should 
nave told to me.” 

i “ Old Strauchan must be excused,” said the Lord of Gils- 
“and. “ He knew from experience that my heart is somewhat 
1 jofter than if I wrote myself Plantagenet.” 
ifii « Thy heart soft, thou commodity of old iron and Cumber¬ 
land flint that thou art!” exclaimed the King. “It is we 
“Wantagenets who boast soft and feeling hearts, Edith,” turn¬ 
ing to his cousin, with an expression which called the blood 
“nto her cheek. “ Give me thy hand, my fair cousin, and, 
a() rince of Scotland, thine.” 

“Forbear, my lord,” said Edith, hanging back, and endeav¬ 
oring to hide her confusion under an attempt to rally her 
3i oyal kinsman’s credulity. “Remember you not that my hand 
1 ras to be the signal of converting to the Christian faith the 
|Saracen and Arab, Saladin and all his turbaned host?” 

“Ay, but the wind of prophecy hath chopped about, and 
“its now in another corner,” replied Richard. 

“ Mock not, lest your bonds be made strong,” said the her¬ 
mit, stepping forwaird. “The heavenly host write nothing but 
J ruth in their brilliant records : it is man’s eyes which are too 
peak to read their characters aright. Know that, when Sala- 
iin and Kenneth of Scotland slept in my grotto, I read in the 
tars that there rested under my roof a prince, the natural 
De of Richard, with whom the fate of Edith Plantagenet was 
o be united. Could I doubt that this must be the Soldan, 
phose rank was well known to me, as he often visited my cell 




316 


THE TALISMAN 


to converse on the revolutions of the heavenly bodies ? Again,! 
the lights of the firmament proclaimed that this prince, the 
husband of Edith Plantagenet, should be a Christian ; and I — 
weak and wild interpreter ! — argued thence the conversion of 
the noble Saladin, whose good qualities seemed often to incline 
him towards the better faith. The sense of my weakness 
hath humbled me to the dust, but in the dust I have found 
comfort. I have not read aright the fate of others; who can 
assure me but that I may have miscalculated mine own 1 God 
will not have us break into His council-house or spy out His 
hidden mysteries. We must wait His time with watching 
and prayer, with fear and with hope. I came hither the stern 
seer — the proud prophet — skilled, as I thought, to instruct 
princes, and gifted even with supernatural powers, but bur¬ 
dened with a weight which I deemed no shoulders but mine 
could have borne. But my bands have been broken: I go 
hence humble in mine ignorance, penitent, and hot hopeless.” 

With these words he withdrew from the assembly; and it 
is recorded that, from that period, his frenzy fits seldom 
occurred, and his penances were of a milder character, and 
accompanied with better hopes of the future. So much is 
there of self-opinion, even in insanity, that the conviction of 
his having entertained and expressed an unfounded prediction 
with so much vehemence seemed to operate, like loss of blood 
on the human frame, to modify and lower the fever of the 
brain. 

It is needless to follow into farther particulars the confer¬ 
ences at the royal tent, or to inquire whether David Earl of 
Huntingdon was as mute in the presence of Edith Plantagenet 
as when he was bound to act under the character of an obscure 
and nameless adventurer. It may be well believed that he 
there expressed, with suitable earnestness, the passion to 
which he had so often before found it difficult to give words, j 

The hour of noon now approached, and Saladin waited to ' 




THE TALISMAN 


317 


receive the princes of Christendom in a tent which, but for 
i its large size, differed little from that of the ordinary shelter 
of the common Kurdman, or Arab; yet beneath its ample and 
sable covering was prepared a banquet after the most gorgeous 
fashion of the East, extended upon carpets of the richest stuffs, 
with cushions laid for the guests. But we cannot stop to 
describe the cloth of gold and silver, the superb embroidery 
in arabesque, the shawls of Cashmere, and the muslins of 
India, which were here unfolded in all their splendor; far 
less to tell the different sweetmeats, ragouts 1 edged with rice 
colored in various manners, with all the other niceties of 
Eastern cookery. Lambs roasted whole, and game and poul¬ 
try dressed in pilaus, 2 w^ere piled in vessels of gold, and silver, 
and porcelain, and intermixed with large mazers 3 of sherbet, 
cooled in snow and ice from the caverns of Mount Lebanon. 
A magnificent pile of cushions at the head of the banquet 
seemed prepared for the master of the feast and such digni¬ 
taries as he might call to share that place of distinction, while, 
from the roof of the tent in all quarters, but over this seat of 
eminence in particular, waved many a banner and pennon, 
the trophies of battles won and kingdoms overthrown. But 
amongst and above them all, a long lance displayed a shroud, 
the banner of Death, with this impressive inscription: 
“Saladin, King of Kings — Saladin, Victor of Victors 
— Saladin must die.” Amid these preparations, the slaves 
who had arranged the refreshments stood with drooped heads 
and folded arms, mute and motionless as monumental statuary, 
or as automata, which waited the touch of the artist to put 
them in motion. 

Expecting the approach of his princely guests, the Soldan, 


1 Ragout: stewed meat. 

2 Pilaus: dishes of mutton, kid, or fowl, boiled with rice, butter, and 
spices. 

8 Mazer: a large wooden drinking vessel mounted with silver. 




318 


THE TALISMAN 


imbued, as most were, with the superstitions of his time, paused 
over a horoscope and corresponding scroll, which had been sent to 
him by the hermit of Engaddi when he departed from the camp. 

“Strange and mysterious science,” he muttered to himself,! 
“ which, pretending to draw the curtain of futurity, misleads j 
those whom it seems to guide., and darkens the scene which it t 
pretends to illuminate! Who would not have said that I was! 
that enemy most dangerous to Richard, whose enmity was to I 
be ended by marriage with his kinswoman ? Yet it now ap¬ 
pears that a union betwixt this gallant earl and the lady will' 
bring about friendship betwixt Richard and Scotland, an enemy 
more dangerous than I, as a wildcat in a chamber is more 
to be dreaded than a lion in a distant desert. But then,” he 
continued to mutter to himself, “ the combination intimates 
that this husband was to be Christian. Christian ! ” he re¬ 
peated, after a pause. “ That gave the insane, fanatic star¬ 
gazer hopes that I might renounce my faith! but me, the 
faithful follower of our Prophet — me it should have unde¬ 
ceived. Lie there, mysterious scroll,” he added, thrusting it 
under the pile of cushions; “strange are thy bodements and 
fatal, since, even when true in themselves, they work upon 
those who attempt to decipher their meaning all the effects of 
falsehood. How now! what means this intrusion ? ” 

He spoke to the dwarf Nectabanus, who rushed into the 
tent fearfully agitated, with each strange and disproportioned 
feature wrenched by horror into still more extravagant ugliness 
— his mouth open, his eyes staring, his hands, with their' 
shrivelled and deformed fingers, wildly expanded. 

“ What now ? ” said the Soldan, sternly. 

“ Accipe hoc ! ” 1 groaned out the dwarf. 

“ Ha ! sayst thou? ” answered Saladin. 

“ Accipe hoc!” replied the panic-struck creature, uncon¬ 
scious, perhaps, that he repeated the same words as before. 

1 Receive this. 



THE TALISMAN 


319 


“ Hence, I am in no vein for foolery,” said the Emperor. 

“Nor am I further fool,” said the dwarf, “than to make my 
folly help out my wits to earn my bread, poor helpless wretch! 
Hear — hear me, great Soldan.” 

“Nay, if thou hast actual wrong to complain of,” said 
Saladin, “ fool or wise, thou art entitled to the ear of a king. 
Retire hither with me; ” and he led him into the inner 
tent. 

Whatever their conference related to, it was soon broken off 
by the fanfare of the trumpets, announcing the arrival of the 
various Christian princes, whom Saladin welcomed to his tent 
with a royal courtesy well becoming their rank and his own, 
but chiefly he saluted the young Earl of Huntingdon, and gen¬ 
erously congratulated him upon prospects which seemed to have 
interfered with and overclouded those which he had himself 
entertained. 

“But think not,” said the Soldan, “thou noble youth, that 
the Prince of Scotland is more welcome to Saladin than was 
Kenneth to the solitary Ilderim when they met in the desert, 
or the distressed Ethiop to the Hakim Adonbec. A brave and 
generous disposition like thine hath a value independent of 
condition and birth, as the cool draught which I here proffer 
thee is as delicious from an earthen vessel as from a goblet of 
gold.” 

The Earl of Huntingdon made a suitable reply, gratefully 
acknowledging the various important services he had received 
from the generous Soldan; but when he had pledged Saladin 
in the bowl of sherbet which the Soldan had proffered to him, 
he could not help remarking with a smile : “ The brave cava¬ 
lier, Ilderim, knew not of the formation of ice, but the munifi¬ 
cent Soldan cools his sherbet with snow.” 

“ Wouldst thou have an Arab or a Kurdman as wise as a 
Hakim ? ” said the Soldan. “ He who does on a disguise must 
make the sentiments of his heart and the learning of his head 


320 


THE TALISMAN 


accord with the dress which he assumes. I desired to see how 
a brave and single-hearted cavalier of Frangistan would con¬ 
duct himself in debate with such a chief as I then seemed ; and 
I questioned the truth of a well-known fact, to know by what 
arguments thou wouldst support thy assertion.” 

While they were speaking, the Archduke of Austria, who 
stood a little apart, was struck with the mention of iced sher¬ 
bet, and took with pleasure and some bluntness the deep 
goblet, as the Earl of Huntingdon was about to replace it. 

“Most delicious!” he exclaimed, after a deep draught, 
which the heat of the weather, and the feverishness following 
the debauch of the preceding day, had rendered doubly accept¬ 
able. He sighed as he handed the cup to the Grand Master 
of the Templars. Saladin made a sign to the dwarf, who 
advanced and pronounced, with a harsh voice, the words, 
“ Accipe hoc!” The Templar started, like a steed who sees a 
lion under a bush beside the pathway; yet instantly recovered, 
and to hide, perhaps, his confusion, raised the goblet to his 
lips; but those lips never touched that goblet’s rim. The 
sabre of Saladin left its sheath as lightning leaves the cloud. 
It was waved in the air, and the head of the Grand Master 
rolled to the extremity of the tent, while the trunk remained 
for a second standing, with the goblet still clenched in its 
grasp, then fell, the liquor mingling with the blood that spurted 
from the veins. 

There was a general exclamation of “ Treason,” and Austria, 
nearest to whom Saladin stood with the bloody sabre in his 
hand, started back as if apprehensive that his turn was to 
come next. Richard and others laid hand on their swords. 

“Fear nothing, noble Austria,” said Saladin, as composedly 
a? if nothing had happened, “nor you, royal England, be wroth 
at what you have seen. Not for his manifold treasons ; not 
for the attempt which, as may be vouched by his own squire, 
he instigated against King Richard’s life; not that he pursued 


THE TALISMAN 


321 


the Prince of Scotland and myself in the desert, reducing us to 
save our lives by the speed of our horses; not that he had 
stirred up the Maronites to attack us upon this very occasion, 
had I not brought up unexpectedly so many Arabs as rendered 
the scheme abortive — not for any or all of these crimes does 
he now lie there, although each were deserving such a doom; 
but because, scarce half an hour ere he polluted our presence, 
as the simoon empoisons the atmosphere, he poniarded his com¬ 
rade and accomplice, Conrade of Montserrat, lest he should 
confess the infamous plots in which they had both been 
engaged.” 

“ How ! Conrade murdered ! And by the Grand Master, 
his sponsor and most intimate friend! ” exclaimed Richard. 
“ Noble Soldan, I would not doubt thee ; yet this must be 
proved, otherwise-” 

“ There stands the evidence,” said Saladin, pointing to the 
terrified dwarf. “ Allah, who sends the firefly to illuminate the 
night-season, can discover secret crimes by the most contemptible 
means.” 

The Soldan proceeded to tell the dwarfs story, which 
amounted to this: In his foolish curiosity, or, as he partly 
confessed, with some thoughts of pilfering, Nectabanus had 
strayed into the tent of Conrade, which had been deserted by 
his attendants, some of whom had left the encampment to 
carry the news of his defeat to his brother, and others were 
availing themselves of the means which Saladin had supplied 
for revelling. The wounded man slept under the influence of 
Saladin’s wonderful talisman, so that the dwarf had oppor¬ 
tunity to pry about at pleasure, until he was frightened into 
concealment by the sound of a heavy step. He skulked be¬ 
hind a curtain, yet could see the motions, and hear the words, 
of the Grand Master, who entered, and carefully secured the 
covering of the pavilion behind him. His victim started from 
sleep, and it would appear that he instantly suspected the 


Y 




322 


THE TALISMAN 


purpose of his old associate, for it was in a tone of alarm that 
he demanded wherefore he disturbed him. 

“I come to confess and to absolve thee,” answered the 
Grand Master. 

Of their further speech the terrified dwarf remembered little, 
save that Conrade implored the Grand Master not to break 
a wounded reed, and that the Templar struck him to the heart 
with a Turkish dagger, with the words “ Accipe hoc ”— 
words which long afterwards haunted the terrified imagination 
of the concealed witness. 

“ I verified the tale,” said Saladin, “ by causing the body to 
be examined; and I made this unhappy being, whom Allah 
hath made the discoverer of the crime, repeat in your own 
presence the words which the murderer spoke; and you your¬ 
selves saw the effect which they produced upon his conscience.” 

The Soldan paused; and the King of England broke 
silence: 

“ If this be true, as I doubt not, we have witnessed a great 
act of justice, though it bore a different aspect. But where¬ 
fore in this presence % wherefore with thine own hand ? ” 

“I had designed otherwise,” said Saladin; “but, had I not 
hastened his doom, it had been altogether averted, since, if I 
had permitted him to taste of my cup, as he was about to do, 
how could I, without incurring the brand of inhospitality, have 
done him to death as he deserved % Had he murdered my 
father, and afterwards partaken of my food and my bowl, not a 
hair of his head could have been injured by me. 1 But enough 
of him — let his carcass and his memory be removed from 
amongst us.” 

The body was carried away, and the marks of the slaughter 
obliterated or concealed with such ready dexterity as showed 
that the case was not altogether so uncommon as to paralyze 
the assistants and officers of Saladin’s household. 

1 Read Lowell’s Youssouf. 


THE TALISMAN 


323 


But the Christian princes felt that the scene which they had 
beheld weighed heavily on their spirits, and although, at the 
courteous invitation of the Soldan, they assumed their seats at 
the banquet, yet it was with the silence of doubt and amaze¬ 
ment. The spirits of Richard alone surmounted all cause for 
suspicion or embarrassment. Yet he, too, seemed to ruminate 
on some proposition, as if he were desirous of making it in the 
most insinuating and acceptable manner which was possible. 
At length he drank oft* a large bowl of wine, and, addressing 
the Soldan, desired to kuow whether it was not true that 
he had honored the Earl of Huntingdon with a personal en¬ 
counter. 

Saladin answered with a smile, that he had proved his horse 
and his weapons with the heir of Scotland, as cavaliers are 
wont to do with each other when they meet in the desert; and 
modestly added that, though the combat was not entirely de¬ 
cisive, he had not, on his part, much reason to pride himself 
on the event. The Scot, on the other hand, disclaimed the 
attributed superiority, and wished to assign it to the Soldan. 

“ Enough of honor thou hast had in the encounter,” said 
Richard, “ and I envy thee more for that than for the smiles 
of Edith Plantagenet, though one of them might reward a 
bloody day’s work. But what say you, noble .princes; is it 
fitting that such a royal ring of chivalry should break up with¬ 
out something being done for future times to speak of? What 
is the overthrow and death of a traitor to such a fair garland 
of honor as is here assembled, and which ought not to part 
without witnessing something more worthy of their regard ? 
How say you, princely Soldan ? What if we two should now, 
and before this fair company, decide the long-contended ques¬ 
tion for this land of Palestine, and end at once these tedious 
wars ? Yonder are the lists ready, nor can Paynimrie ever 
hope a better champion than thou. I, unless worthier offers, 
will lay down my gauntlet in behalf of Christendom, and, in all 



324 


THE TALISMAN 


love and honor, we will do mortal battle fo; the possession of 
Jerusalem.” 

There was a deep pause for the Soldan’s answer. His chec 
and brow colored highly, and it was the opinio- of many pres¬ 
ent that he hesitated whether he should accept the challenge. 
At length he said : “ Fighting for the Holy City against those 
whom we regard as idolaters, and worshippers of stocks and 
stones and graven images, I might confide that Allah would 
strengthen my arm ; or if I fell beneath the sword of th 
Melech Ric, I could not pass to Paradise by a more glorious 
death. But Allah has already given Jerusalem to the tru< 
believers, and it were a tempting the God of the Prophet to 
peril, upon my own personal strength and skill, that which I 
hold securely by the superiority of my forces.” 

“ If not for Jerusalem, then,” said Richard, in the tone of one 
who would entreat a favor of an intimate friend, “yet for the 
love of honor, let us run at least three courses with grinded 
lances 1 ” 

“Even this,” said Saladin, half-smiling at Coeur-de-Lion’s 
affectionate earnestness for the combat — “ even this I may not 
lawfully do. The master places the shepherd over the flock, 
not for the shepherd’s own sake, but for the sake of the sheep! 
Had I a son to hold the sceptre when I fell, I might have had 
the liberty, as I have the will, to brave this bold encounter; 
but your own Scripture sayeth, that when the herdsman is 
smitten, the sheep are scattered.” 

“ Thou hast had all the fortune,” said Richard, turning to 
the Earl of Huntingdon, with a sigh. “ I would have given 
the best year in my life for that one half-hour beside the 
Diamond of the Desert! ” 

The chivalrous extravagance of Richard awakened the 
spirits of the assembly, and when at length they arose to depart, 
Saladin advanced and took Coeur-de-Lion by the hand. 

“Noble King of England,” he said, “we now part, never ^ 



THE TALISMAN 


325 

m*#t again. Th&jbyour league is dissolved, no more to be re¬ 
united, and that your native forces are far too few to enable 
-you to prosecute your enterprise, is as well known to me as to 
yourself. I , jiy not yield you up that Jerusalem which you 
so much desire to hold. It is to us, as to you, a Holy City. 
But whatever other terms Richard demands of Saladin shall be 
as willingly yielded as yonder fountain yields its waters. Ay, 
and the same should be as frankly afforded by Saladin if Rich¬ 
ard stood in the desert with but two archers in his train.” 


r ; The next day saw Richard’s return to his own camp, and in 
a short space afterwards the young Earl of Huntingdon was 
espoused by Edith Plantagenet. The Soldan sent, as a nup¬ 
tial present on this occasion, the celebrated Talisman ; but 
though many cures were wrought by means of it in Europe, 
none equalled in success and celebrity those which the Soldan 
achieved. It is still in existence, having been bequeathed by 
the Earl of Huntingdon to a brave knight of Scotland, Sir. 
Simon of the Lee, in whose ancient, and highly-honored family 
it is still preserved; and although charmed stones have been 
dismissed from the modern pharmacopoeia, its virtues are still 
applied to for stopping blood and in cases of canine madness. 

Our story closes here, as the terms on which Richard relin¬ 
quished his conquests are to be found in every history of the 
period. 


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